X"B  E  R  K  E  L  £  v^\ 

I    LIBRARY 

I    UNIVERSITY  OF    I 
XCALIFORNIA/ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

PROFESSOR 
BENJAMIN  H.  LEHMAN 


WARD'S  STATUE  OF  SHAKESPEARE. 


SHAKESPEARE'S 


COMEDY  OF 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


EDITED,  WITH  NOTES, 

BY 

WILLIAM   J.  ROLFE,  A.M., 

FORMERLY   HEAD   MASTER  OF  THE   HIGH  SCHOOL,  CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 


WITH  ENGRA  VINGS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 

1 88  i. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1878,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washingtoa 


PREFACE. 


THIS  edition  of  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  having  been  prepared  on 
the  same  plan  as  its  ten  predecessors  in  the  series,  needs  no  lengthy 
preface.  The  text  is  mainly  that  of  the  quarto  of  1600,  which  (see  p, 
10)  is  generally  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  the  folio  of  1623  where  the 
two  do  not  agree.  For  the  readings  of  the  quarto  and  the  other  early 
editions,  I  have  depended  in  most  cases  on  the  collation  in  the  "  Cam- 
bridge "  edition. 

In  the  Notes,  as  a  rule,  credit  is  given  to  the  authorities  followed. 
The  apparent  exceptions  to  the  rule  are  only  apparent.  A  good  part 
of  my  material  is  prepared  before  consulting  other  editions  (except  a 
few  of  the  standard  ones)  ;  and  when  I  come  to  examine  these  I  often 
find,  as  might  be  expected,  that  some  of  my  illustrations  have  already 
been  used. 

References  and  quotations  taken  from  other  editions  have  been  veri- 
fied whenever  this  was  possible,  and  sundry  typographical  and  other 
errors  have  thus  been  detected.  I  fear  that  my  own  work  may  not  be 
wholly  free  from  such  slips,  and  I  shall  be  very  grateful  to  any  reader 
who  will  help  me  to  correct  them. 

Cambridge,  Oct.  15,  1878. 


81.3 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION  TO  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING  ...............  9 

I.  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  PLAY  ...........................  9 

II.  THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  PLOT  .............  ...............  10 

III.  CRITICAL  COMMENTS  ON  THE  PLAY  .....................  13 

MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING  ...........................  27 

ACT  1  .....................................................  29 

"    II  .....................................................  42 

"III  ...........................  ..........................  63 

"  IV  .....................................................  81 


.....................................................     95 

NOTES  .............  .  ........  .  .....  [";.'.,  .......................   115 


MESSINA,   FROM    THE  SEA. 

INTRODUCTION 

TO 

MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


I.    THE    HISTORY   OF    THE    PLAY. 

THE  first  edition  of  Much  Ado  About  Nothing was  a  quarto, 
published  in  1600  with  the  following  title-page: 

Much  adoe  about  Nothing.  |  As  it  hath  been  sundrie  times 
publikely  \  acted  by  the  right  honourable,  the  Lord  |  Cham- 
berlaine  his  seruants.  |  Written  by  William  Shakespeare.  \ 
London  |  Printed  by  V.  S.  for  Andrew  Wise,  and  [  William 
Aspley.  |  1600. 

The  earliest  known  reference  to  the  play  is  in  the  Regis- 
ters of  the  Stationers'  Company,  among  some  miscellaneous 
memoranda  at  the  beginning  of  Volume  C.*  The  memo- 
randum follows  one  dated  May  27th,  1600,  and  is  thus  given 
by  Arber  : 

*  See  our  cd.  of  As  You  Like  It,  p.  10. 


io  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


4. 

As  you  like  yt  /  a  booke 
HENRY  the  FFIFT /  a  booke 


to  be  staiecl. 


Euery  man  in  his  humour  /  a  booke 
The  commedie  of  *  muche  a  Doo  about  nothing'1 
a  booke  / 

The  year  is  not  given,  but  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  it 
was  1600. 

In  the  same  volume,  among  the  regular  entries  of  the  year 
1600,  we  find  the  following  : 

23  gugustf 

Andrew  Wyse          Entred  for  their  copies  vnder  the  handes  of  the  wardens  Two 

William  Aspley        bookes.  the  one  called  Muche  a  Doo  about  nothinge.  Tb/e]  other 

the  second  parte  of  the  history  of  kinge  HENRY  the  IIIJth  ivith 

the  humours  of  Sir  JOHN  FFA  LLSTA  FF :  Wrytten  by  master 

SHAKESPERE xijd 

This,  by  the  way,  is  the  first  occurrence  of  the  poet's  name 
in  these  Registers. 

The  quarto  of  1600  was,  on  the  whole,  well  printed ;  and 
no  other  edition  of  the  play  is  known  to  have  been  issued 
previous  to  the  publication  of  the  Folio  of  1623.  The 
printers  of  the  latter  appear  to  have  used  a  copy  of  the 
quarto  belonging  to  the  library  of  the  theatre  and  corrected 
for  the  purposes  of  the  stage  ;  but  the  changes  are  for  the 
most  part  very  slight  and  seldom  for  the  better,  as  will  be 
seen  by  our  Notes  below. 

As  the  play  is  not  mentioned  in  Meres's  list  of  1598  (see 
our  ed.  of  A.  Y.  L.  p.  io),  while  it  had  been  "  sundrie  times  " 
acted  before  its  publication  in  August,  1600,  it  was  probably 
written  in  1599. 

II.    THE   SOURCES   OF   THE   PLOT. 

The  earlier  incidents  of  the  serious  portion  of  the  plot  may 
have  been  taken  from  the  story  of  Ariodante  and  Ginevra  in 
Ariosto's  Orlando  Furioso,  canto  v.  ;  where  Polinesso,  in  or- 
der to  revenge  himself  on  the  princess  Ginevra  (who  has 
rejected  his  suit  and  pledged  her  troth  to  Ariodante)  induces 


IN  TROD  UCTION.  I  j 

her  attendant  Dalinda  to  personate  the  princess  and  to  ap- 
pear at  night  at  a  balcony  to  which  he  ascends  by  a  rope- 
ladder  in  sight  of  Ariodante,  whom  he  has  stationed  there  to 
witness  the  infidelity  of  Ginevra.  A  translation  of  this  story 
by  Peter  Beverley  was  entered  on  the  Stationers'  Registers 
in  1565-6,  and  was  doubtless  printed  soon  afterwards ;  and 
in  1582-3  "A  History  of  Ariodante  and  Geneuora"  was 
"  shewed  before  her  Matie  on  Shrovetuesdaie  at  night,  enact- 
ed by  Mr.  Mulcasters  children."  According  to  Sir  John 
Harrington,  the  same  story  had  been  "written  in  English 
verse"  by  George  Turbervile,  before  the  publication  of  his 
own  translation  of  the  Orlando  in  1591.  Spenser  had  also 
introduced  the  tale,  with  some  variations,  in  the  Faerie 
Queene  (ii.  4.  17  fol.),  and  this  part  of  the  poem  was  pub- 
lished in  1590. 

It  is  more  probable,  however,  that  the  source  from  which 
Shakespeare  drew  this  part  of  his  materials  was  the  22d 
Novel  of  Bandello,  which  had  been  translated  into  French 
by  Belleforest  in  his  Histoires  Tragiques  {see  our  ed.  of  Ham- 
let, p.  13),  and  probably  also  rendered  into  English,  though 
the  version  has  not  come  down  to  our  day.  In  Bandello's 
story,  as  in  the  play,  the  scene  is  laid  at  Messina;  the  father 
of  the  slandered  maiden  is  Lionato ;  and  the  friend  of  her 
lover  is  Don  Piero,  or  Pedro.  How  closely  the  poet  has 
followed  the  novel  will  be  seen  from  the  outline  of  the  latter 
given  by  Staunton :  "  Don  Piero  of  Arragon  returns  from  a 
victorious  campaign,  and,  with  the  gallant  cavalier  Timbreo 
cli  Cardona,  is  at  Messina.  Timbreo  falls  in  love  with  Feni- 
cia,  the  daughter  of  Lionato  di  Lionati,  a  gentleman  of  Mes- 
sina, and,  like  Claudio  in  the  play,  courts  her  by  proxy.  He 
is  successful  in  his  suit,  and  the  lovers  are  betrothed  ;  but 
the  course  of  true  love  is  impeded  by  one  Girondo,  a  disap- 
pointed admirer  of  the  lady,  who  determines  to  prevent  the 
marriage.  In  pursuance  of  this  object,  he  insinuates  to 
Timbreo  that  Fenicia  is  false,  and  offers  to  show  him  a 


12  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

stranger  scaling  her  chamber  window.  The  unhappy  lover 
consents  to  watch ;  and  at  the  appointed  hour  Girondo  and 
a  servant  in  the  plot  pass  him  disguised,  and  the  latter  is 
seen  to  ascend  a  ladder  and  enter  the  house  of  Lionato.  In 
an  agony  of  rage  and  jealousy,  Timbreo  in  the  morning  ac- 
cuses the  lady  of  disloyalty,  and  rejects  the  alliance.  Fenicia 
falls  into  a  swoon  ;  a  dangerous  illness  supervenes;  and  the 
father,  to  stifle  all  rumours  hurtful  to  her  fame,  removes  her 
to  a  retired  house  of  his  brother,  proclaims  her  death,  and 
solemnly  performs  her  funeral  obsequies.  Girondo  is  now 
struck  with  remorse  at  having  '  slandered  to  death '  a  creat- 
ure so  innocent  and  beautiful.  He  confesses  his  treachery 
to  Timbreo,  and  both  determine  to  restore  the  reputation 
of  the  lost  one,  and  undergo  any  penance  her  family  may 
impose.  Lionato  is  merciful,  and  requires  only  from  Timbreo 
that  he  shall  wed  a  lady  whom  he  recommends,  and  whose 
face  shall  be  concealed  till  the  marriage  ceremony  is  over. 
The  denouement  is  obvious.  Timbreo  espouses  the  mysteri- 
ous-fair one,  and  finds  in  her  his  injured,  loving,  and  beloved 
Fenicia." 

The  comic  portion  of  the  play  is  Shakespeare's  own,  as 
indeed  is  everything  else  in  it  "except  this  mere  skeleton  of 
tragic  incident.  Claudio  and  Hero,  Don  Pedro  and  Don 
John,  are  as  really  his  own  creations  as  Benedick  and  Bea- 
trice, Dogberry  and  Verges,  who  have  no  part  in  Bandello's 
novel  or  Ariosto's  poem.  As  Knight  remarks,  "  Ariosto 
made  this  story  a  tale  of  chivalry,  Spenser  a  lesson  of  high 
and  solemn  morality,  Bandello  an  interesting  love-romance  ; 
it  was  for  Shakspere  to  surround  the  main  incident  with 
those  accessories  which  lie  could  nowhere  borrow,  and  to 
make  of  it  such  a  comedy  as  no  other  man  has  made — a 
comedy,  not  of  manners  or  of  sentiment,  but  of  life  viewed 
under  its  profoundest  aspects,  whether  of  the  grave  or  the 
ludicrous." 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

III.    CRITICAL    COMMENTS    ON    THE    PLAY. 

[From  SchlegeVs  "Dramatic  Literature"*] 

The  manner  in  which  the  innocent  Hero  before  the  altar 
at  the  moment  of  the  wedding,  and  in  the  presence  of  her 
family  and  many  witnesses,  is  put  to  shame  by  a  most  de- 
grading charge,  false  indeed,  yet  clothed  with  every  appear- 
ance of  truth,  is  a  grand  piece  of  theatrical  effect  in  the  true 
and  justifiable  sense.  The  impression  would  have  been  too 
tragical  had  not  Shakspeare  carefully  softened  it,  in  order  to 
prepare  for  a  fortunate  catastrophe.  The  discovery  of  the 
plot  against  Hero  has  been  already  partly  made,  though  not 
by  the  persons  interested  ;  and  the  poet  has  contrived,  by 
means  of  the  blundering  simplicity  of  a  couple  of  constables 
and  watchmen,  to  convert  the  arrest  and  the  examination 
of  the  guilty  individuals  into  scenes  full  of  the  most  delight- 
ful amusement.  There  is  also  a  second  piece  of  theatrical 
effect  not  inferior  to  the  first,  where  Claudio,  now  convinced 
of  his  error,  and  in  obedience  to  the  penance  laid  on  his 
fault,  thinking  to  give  his  hand  to  a  relation  of  his  injured 
bride,  whom  he  supposes  dead,  discovers,  on  her  unmasking, 
Hero  herself.  The  extraordinary  success  of  this  play  in 
Shakspeare's  own  day,  and  even  since  in  England,  is,  how- 
ever, to  be  ascribed  more  particularly  to  the  parts  of  Bene- 
dick and  Beatrice,  two  humorous  beings,  who  incessantly 
attack  each  other  with  all  the  resources  of  raillery.  Avow- 
edly rebels  to  love,  they  are  both  entangled  in  its  net  by  a 
merry  plot  of  their  friends  to  make  them  believe  that  each 
is  the  object  of  the  secret  passion  of  the  other.  Some  one 
or  other,  not  overstocked  with  penetration,  has  objected  to 
the  same  artifice  being  twice  used  in  entrapping  them  •  the 
drollery,  however,  lies  in  the  very  symmetry  of  the  deception. 
Their  friends  attribute  the  whole  effect  to  their  own  device, 

*  Lectures  on  Dramatic  Art  and  Literature,  by  A.  W.  Schlegel ;  Black's 
translation,  revised  by  Morrison  (London,  1846),  p.  386. 


14  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

but  the  exclusive  direction  of  their  raillery  against  each  oth- 
er is  in  itself  a  proof  of  a  growing  inclination.  Their  witty 
vivacity  does  not  even  abandon  them  in  the  avowal  of  love ; 
and  their  behaviour  only  assumes  a  serious  appearance  for 
the  purpose  of  defending  the  slandered  Hero.  This  is  ex- 
ceedingly well  imagined;  the  lovers  of  jesting  must  fix  a 
point  beyond  which  they  are  not  to  indulge  in  their  humour, 
if  they  would  not  be  mistaken  for  buffoons  by  trade. 

[From  Gervinus's  " Shakespeare  Commentaries"*] 
Banclello's  tale  did  not  afford  the  poet  even  a  hint  of  any 
moral  view  of  the  story;  it  is  a  bald  narrative,  containing 
nothing  which  could  assist  in  the  understanding  of  the 
Shakespearian  piece.  In  As  You  Like  It  he  had  to  conceal 
the  vast  moralizing  of  the  source  from  which  he  drew  his 
material ;  here,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  to  strike  the  latent 
spark  within  the  material.  The  story  of  Claudio  and  Hero 
was  transferred  by  Shakespeare  from  the  shallow  novel  into 
life;,  he  dived  into  the  nature  of  the  incidents;  he  investi- 
gated the  probable  character  of  the  beings  among  whom  it 
was  imaginable ;  he  found  the  key-note  by  means  of  which 
he  could  bring  the  whole  into  harmony.  The  subject  ex- 
panded in  his  hands ;  the  main  action  received  an  explana- 
tory prelude;  the  principal  characters  (Hero  and  Claudio) 
obtained  an  important  counterpart  in  the  connection  between 
Benedick  and  Beatrice,  which  is  entirely  Shakespeare's  prop- 
erty ;  these  characters  gained  an  importance  even  beyond 
the  principal  ones  ;  the  plot,  as  is  ever  the  case  with  our 
poet,  and  as  Coleridgef  has  especially  pointed  out  in  this 

*  Shakespeare  Commentaries,  by  Dr.  G.  G.  Gervinus,  translated  by  F. 
E.  Bunnett ;  revised  ed.  (London,  1875),  P-  4°6  fol.  A  few  slight  verbal 
changes  have  been  made  by  the  editor. 

t  Coleridge  remarks  :  "  The  interest  in  the  plot  is  always  on  account 
of  the  characters,  not  vice  versa,  as  in  almost  all  other  writers  ;  the  plot 
is  a  mere  canvas  and  no  more.  Hence  arises  the  true  justification  of  the 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

play,  gave  place  to  the  characterization ;  the  question  seems 
almost  what  manner  of  men  made  the  much  ado  about  noth- 
ing, rather  than  the  nothing  about  which  ado  was  made.  The 
whole  stress  seems  to  lie,  not  in  the  plot,  not  in  the  outward 
interest  of  the  catastrophe,  but  in  the  moral  significance 
which  the  disturbance  caused  by  Don  John  exercises  upon 
the  two  engagements  which  are  concluded  and  prepared, 
and  again  dissolved  and  left  unconfirmed,  or  rather  upon 
the  beings  who  have  entered  into  these  engagements.  .  .  . 

The  poet  has  with  extraordinary  skill  so  arranged  and 
introduced  the  tragic  incident  that  the  painful  impression 
which  is  perhaps  too  sensible  in  the  reading  is  lost  in  the 
acting.  He  omitted  upon  the  stage  the  scene  of  Claudio's 
agitation  on  overhearing  Hero,  in  order  that  he  might  thus 
avoid  the  gloom,  and  not  weaken  the  comic  scene  in  which 
a  trap  is  laid  for  the  listening  Beatrice.  The  burlesque 
scenes  of  the  constables  are  introduced  with  the  impending 
tragic  events,  that  they  may  afford  a  counterbalance  to  them 
and  prevent  them  from  having  too  lively  an  effect  on  the 
spectator.  But,  above  all,  we  are  already  aware  that  the 
authors  of  th£  deception  are  in  custody  before  Hero's  dis- 
grace in  the  church  takes  place ;  we  know,  therefore,  that  all 
the  ado  about  her  crime  and  death  is  for  nothing.  This  tact 
of  the  poet  in  the  construction  of  his  comedy  corresponds 
with  that  in  the  design  of  Claudio's  character,  and  in  the 
unusually  happy  contrast  which  he  has  presented  to  him 
in  Benedick.  Shakespeare  has  so  blended  the  elements  in 

same  stratagem  being  used  in  regard  to  Benedick  and  Beatrice— the  van- 
ity in  each  being  alike.  Take  away  from  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  all 
that  which  is  not  indispensable  to  the  plot,  .  .  .  take  away  Benedick, 
Beatrice,  Dogberry,  and  the  reaction  of  the  former  on  the  character  of 
I  lero,  and  what  will  remain  ?  In  other  writers  the  main  agent  of  the 
plot  is  always  the  prominent  character ;  in  Shakspeare  it  is  so,  or  is  not 
so,  as  the  character  is  in  itself  calculated,  or  not  calculated,  to  form  the 
plot.  Don  John  is  the  mainspring  of  the  plot  of  this  play ;  but  he  is 
niere'y  shown  and  then  withdrawn." 


1 6  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Claudio's  nature,  he  has  given  such  a  good  foundation  of 
honour  and  self-reliance  to  his  unstable  mind  and  fickle 
youth,  that  we  cannot,  with  all  our  disapprobation  of  his 
conduct,  be  doubtful  as  to  his  character.  Changeable  as 
he  is,  he  continues  stable  in  no  choice  of  friends  and  loved 
ones,  since  he  had  never  continuously  tested  them  ;  at  the 
slightest  convulsion  of  events  he  is  overpowered  by  first  im- 
pressions, and  he  is  without  the  strength  of  will  to  search  to 
the  bottom  of  things.  This  would  be  an  odious  and  despica- 
ble character,  if  the  changeableness  were  not  tempered  by 
the  sensitiveness  of  a  tender  feeling  of  honour.  Our  interest 
in  Claudio  is  secured  by  this  blending  of  the  moral  elements 
in  his  nature ;  but  the  foundation  for  a  comic  character  does 
not  appear  to  lie  either  in  him  or  in  the  whole  action  in 
which  he  is  implicated.  If  we  separate  it  from  the  rest,  we 
shall  retain  a  painful  and  not  a  cheerful  impression.  The 
poet  has  thus  added  the  connection  between  Benedick  and 
Beatrice,  in  order  to  produce  a  merry  counterbalance  to  the 
more  serious  and  primary  element  of  the  play,  and  to  make 
the  former  predominate.  The  same  self-love  and  the  same 
spoiling  by  prosperity  fall  to  the  lot  of  these  two  characters 
as  to  that  of  Claudio  ;  but,  instead  of  his  changeableness, 
we  see  in  them  only  what,  with  a  fine  distinction,  we  should 
(with  Benedick)  call  giddiness.  We  connect  the  idea  of 
changeableness  with  a  continual  wavering  after  resolutions 
taken  ;  that  of  giddiness  with  unstable  opinions  and  inclina- 
tions before  the  same :  changeableness  manifests  itself  in 
actions,  it  is  productive  of  pernicious  consequences,  and  for 
this  reason  causes  contempt  and  hatred;  giddiness  manifests 
itself  only  in  contrary  processes  of  the  mind,  which  are  by 
nature  harmless,  and  this  is  the  reason  why  it  offers  excel- 
lent material  for  comedy.  Few  characters,  therefore,  on  the 
stage  have  such  truly  comic  character  as  Benedick  and  Bea- 
trice, and  they  have  not  lost  their  popularity  in  England  even 
to  the  present  day.  Shakespeare's  contemporary,  Leonard 


IN  TROD  UCT10N.  1 7 

Digges,  speaks  of  them  together  with  Falstaff  and  Malvolio 
as  the  favourites  of  the  public  of  that  day ;  as  characters 
which  filled  pit,  gallery,  and  boxes  in  a  moment,  while  Ben 
Jonson's  comedies  frequently  did  not  pay  for  fire  and  door- 
keeper. .  .  . 

It  would  have  been  difficult  for  Benedick  and  Beatrice  in 
the  midst  of  their  hostile  raillery  to  come  to  a  serious  ex- 
planation ;  the  concluding  scene  itself  proves  this,  after 
events  have  led  to  this  explanation.  This  is  brought  about 
by  the  heartless  scene  which  Claudio  prepares  for  Hero  in 
the  church.  The  better  nature  of  Beatrice  bursts  forth  to 
light  amid  this  base  ill-treatment.  Her  true  love  for  Hero, 
her  deep  conviction  of  her  innocence,  her  anger  at  the  de- 
liberate malice  of  her  public  dishonour,  stir  up  her  whole 
soul  and  make  it  a  perfect  contrast  to  what  we  have  seen  in 
her  hitherto.  .  .  .  Sorrow  for  Hero  and  for  the  honour  of  her 
house  makes  Beatrice  gentle,  tender,  and  weakened  into 
tears;  this  "happy  hour'7  facilitates  to  both  their  serious 
confession.  But  at  the  same  time  this  hour  of  misfortune 
tests  these  beings,  accustomed  as  they  are  only  to  jest  and 
raillery,  by  a  heavy  trial,  in  the  sustaining  of  which  we  are 
convinced  that  these  gifted  natures  are  not  devoid  of  that 
seriousness  which  regards  no  earnest  situation  with  frivolity. 
We  should  more  readily  have  imputed  this  gift  to  Claudio, 
but  we  find  it  existing  far  more  in  the  humorous  couple  who 
had  not  taken  life  so  lightly,  and  who  had  at  last  accustomed 
themselves  to  truth.  Beatrice  places  before  Benedick  the 
cruel  choice  between  her  esteem  and  love  and  his  connec- 
tion with  his  friend.  His  great  confidence  in  her,  and  in 
her  unshaken  confidence  in  Hero,  led  him  to  make  his  diffi- 
cult decision,  in  which  he  acts  with  vigour  and  prudence, 
very  differently  from  Claudio  in  his  difficulties.  Beatrice, 
the  untamed  colt,  learns  at  the  same  time  how  the  most 
masculine  woman  cannot  dispense  with  assistance  in  certain 
cases ;  she  has  moreover  seen  her  Benedick  in  a  position  in 

B 


1 8  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

which  he  responds  to  her  ideal  of  a  man,  in  whom  mirth  and 
seriousness  should  be  justly  blended.  .  .  .  Benedick  goes  off 
the  stage  with  a  confession  of  his  giddiness,  but  it  is  a  giddi- 
ness overcome,  and  we  have  no  reason  to  be  anxious  either 
for  the  constancy  or  for  the  peaceableness  of  this  pair.  The 
poet  has  bestowed  upon  them  two  names  of  happy  augury.  . .  . 

[From  Mrs.  Jameson's  "  Characteristics  of  Women"*} 
Shakspeare  has  exhibited  in  Beatrice  a  spirited  and  faithful 
portrait  of  the  fine  lady  of  his  own  time.  The  deportment, 
language,  manners,  and  allusions  are  those  of  a  particular 
class  in  a  particular  age ;  but  the  individual  and  dramatic 
character  which  forms  the  groundwork  is  strongly  discrim- 
inated, and  being  taken  from  general  nature,  belongs  to  ev- 
ery age.  In  Beatrice,  high  intellect  and  high  animal  spir- 
its meet,  and  excite  each  other  like  fire  and  air.  In  her  wit 
(which  is  brilliant  without  being  imaginative)  there  is  a 
touch  of  insolence,  not  unfrequent  in  women  when  the  wit 
predominates  over  reflection  and  imagination.  In  her  tem- 
per, too,  there  is  a  slight  infusion  of  the  termagant ;  and  her 
satirical  humour  plays  with  such  an  unrespective  levity  over 
all  subjects  alike  that  it  required  a  profound  knowledge  of 
women  to  bring  such  a  character  within  the  pale  of  our  sym- 
pathy. But  Beatrice,  though  wilful,  is  not  wayward ;  she  is 
volatile,  not  unfeeling.  She  has  not  only  an  exuberance  of 
wit  and  gayety,  but  of  heart  and  soul  and  energy  of  spirit ; 
and  is  no  more  like  the  fine  ladies  of  modern  comedy  — 
whose  wit  consists  in  a  temporary  allusion,  or  a  play  upon 
words,  and  whose  petulance  is  displayed  in  a  toss  of  the  head, 
a  flirt  of  the  fan,  or  a  flourish  of  the  pocket-handkerchief — 
than  one  of  our  modern  dandies  is  like  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 

In  Beatrice,  Shakspeare  has  contrived  that  the  poetry  of 
the  character  shall  not  only  soften,  but  heighten  its  comic 
effect.     We  are  not  only  inclined  to  forgive  Beatrice  all  her 
*  American  ed.  (Boston,  1857),  p.  99  fol. 


INTRODUCTIOAr.  !9 

scornful  airs,  all  her  biting  jests,  all  her  assumption  of  supe- 
riority ;  but  they  amuse  and  delight  us  the  more  when  we 
find  her,  with  all  the  headlong  simplicity  of  a  child,  falling 
at  once  into  the  snare  laid  for  her  affections ;  when  we  see 
her  who  thought  a  man  of  God's  making  not  good  enough 
for  her,  who  disdained  to  be  o'ermastered  by  "  a  piece  of 
valiant  dust,"  stooping  like  the  rest  of  her  sex,  vailing  her 
proud  spirit  and  taming  her  wild  heart  to  the  loving  hand 
of  him  whom  she  had  scorned,  flouted,  and  misused  "  past 
the  endurance  of  a  block."  And  we  are  yet  more  completely 
won  by  her  generous  enthusiastic  attachment  to  her  cousin. 
When  the  father  of  Hero  believes  the  tale  of  her  guilt ;  when 
Claudio,  her  lover,  without  remorse  or  a  lingering  doubt, 
consigns  her  to  shame  ;  when  the  Friar  remains  silent,  and 
the  generous  Benedick  himself  knows  not  what  to  say,  Bea- 
trice, confident  in  her  affections,  and  guided  only  by  the 
impulses  of  her  own  feminine  heart,  sees  through  the  incon- 
sistency, the  impossibility  of  the  charge,  and  exclaims,  without 
a  moment's  hesitation, 

"  O,  on  my  soul,  my  cousin  is  belied  !" 

Schlegel,  in  his  remarks  on  the  play,  has  given  us  an 
amusing  instance  of  that  sense  of  reality  with  which  we  are 
impressed  by  Shakspeare's  characters.  He  says  of  Bene- 
dick and  Beatrice,  as  if  he  had  known  them  personally,  that 
the  exclusive  direction  of  their  pointed  raillery  against  each 
other  "  is  a  proof  of  a  growing  inclination."  This  is  not 
unlikely;  and  the  same  inference  would  lead  us  to  suppose 
that  this  mutual  inclination  had  commenced  before  the 
opening  of  the  play.  The  very  first  words  uttered  by  Bea- 
trice are  an  inquiry  after  Benedick,  though  expressed  with 
her  usual  arch  impertinence  : — 

"  I  pray  you,  is  Signior  Montanto  returned  from  the  wars,  or  no  ?" 

"I  pray  you,  how  many  hath  he  killed  and  eaten  in  these  wars?  But 
how  many  hath  he  killed  ?  for  indeed  I  promised  to  eat  all  of  his 

killing." 


20  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

And  in  the  unprovoked  hostility  with  which  she  falls  upon 
him  in  his  absence,  in  the  pertinacity  and  bitterness  of  her 
satire,  there  is  certainly  great  argument  that  he  occupies 
much  more  of  her  thoughts  than  she  would  have  been  will- 
ing to  confess,  even  to  herself.  In  the  same  manner  Bene- 
dick betrays  a  lurking  partiality  for  his  fascinating  enemy  ; 
he  shows  that  he  has  looked  upon  her  with  no  careless  eye 
when  he  says, 

"There  's  her  cousin  [meaning  Beatrice],  an  she  were  not  possessed 
with  a  fury,  excels  her  as  much  in  beauty  as  the  first  of  May  does  the 
last  of  December." 

Infinite  skill,  as  well  as  humour,  is  shown  in  making  this 
pair  of  airy  beings  the  exact  counterpart  of  each  other ;  but 
of  the  two  portraits,  that  of  Benedick  is  by  far  the  most 
pleasing,  because  the  independence  and  gay  indifference  of 
temper,  the  laughing  defiance  of  love  and  marriage,  the 
satirical  freedom  of  expression,  common  to  both,  are  more 
becoming  to  the  masculine  than  to  the  feminine  character. 
Any  woman  might  love  such  a  cavalier  as  Benedick,  and  be 
proud  of  his  affection ;  his  valour,  his  wit,  and  his  gayety  sit 
so  gracefully  upon  him  !  and  his  light  scoffs  against  the  pow- 
er of  love  are  but  just  sufficient  to  render  more  piquant  the 
conquest  of  this  "heretic  in  despite  of  beauty."  But  a  man 
might  well  be  pardoned  who  should  shrink  from  encounter- 
ing such  a  spirit  as  that  of  Beatrice,  unless,  indeed,  he  had 
"served  an  apprenticeship  to  the  taming-school."  The  wit 
of  Beatrice  is  less  good-humoured  than  that  of  Benedick;  or, 
from  the  difference  of  sex,  appears  so.  It  is  observable  that 
the  power  is  throughout  on  her  side,  and  the  sympathy  and 
interest  on  his  :  which,  by  reversing  the  usual  order  of  things, 
seems  to  excite  us  against  the  grain,  if  I  may  use  such  an 
expression.  In  all  their  encounters  she  constantly  gets  the 
better  of  him,  and  the  gentleman's  wits  go  off  halting,  if  he 
is  not  himself  fairly  hors  de  combat.  Beatrice,  woman-like, 
generally  has  the  first  word,  and  will  have  the  last.  .  .  . 


INTRODUCTION. 


21 


In  the  midst  of  all  this  tilting  and  sparring  of  their  nimble 
and  fiery  wits,  we  find  them  infinitely  anxious  for  the  good 
opinion  of  each  other,  and  secretly  impatient  of  each  other's 
scorn  ;  but  Beatrice  is  the  most  truly  indifferent  of  the  two — 
the  most  assured  of  herself.  The  comic  effect  produced  by 
their  mutual  attachment,  which,  however  natural  and  expect- 
ed, comes  upon  us  with  all  the  force  of  a  surprise,  cannot  be 
surpassed  :  and  how  exquisitely  characteristic  the  mutual 
avowal !  .  .  . 

The  character  of  Hero  is  well  contrasted  with  that  of 
Beatrice,  and  their  mutual  attachment  is  very  beautiful  and 
natural.  When  they  are  both  on  the  scene  together,  Hero 
has  but  little  to  say  for  herself:  Beatrice  asserts  the  rule 
of  a  master  spirit,  eclipses  her  by  her  mental  superiority, 
abashes  her  by  her  raillery,  dictates  to  her,  answers  for  her, 
and  would  fain  inspire  her  gentle-hearted  cousin  with  some 
of  her  own  assurance. 

"  Yes.  faith ;  it  is  my  cousin's  duty  to  make  curtsy  and  say  '  Father, 
as  it  please  you.' — But  yet  for  all  that,  cousin,  let  him  be  a  handsome 
fellow,  or  else  make  another  curtsy  and  say  *  Father,  as  it  please  me.' " 

But  Shakspeare  knew  well  how  to  make  one  character  sub- 
ordinate to  another,  without  sacrificing  the  slightest  portion 
of  its  effect ;  and  Hero,  added  to  her  grace  and  softness, 
and  all  the  interest  which  attaches  to  her  as  the  sentimental 
heroine  of  the  play,  possesses  an  intellectual  beauty  of  her 
own.  When  she  has  Beatrice  at  an  advantage,  she  repays 
her  with  interest,  in  the  severe  but  most  animated  and  ele- 
gant picture  she  draws  of  her  cousin's  imperious  character 
and  unbridled  levity  of  tongue.  The  portrait  is  a  little  over- 
charged, because  administered  as  a  corrective,  and  intended 
to  be  overheard  : 

"But  nature  never  fram'd  a  woman's  heart 
Of  prouder  stuff  than  that  of  Beatrice  : 
Disdain  and  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eyes,"  etc. 

Beatrice  never  appears  to  greater  advantage  than  in  her 


22  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

soliloquy  after  leaving  her  concealment  "  in  the  pleached 
bovver  where  honeysuckles,  ripened  by  the  sun,  forbid  the 
sun  to  enter;"  she  exclaims,  after  listening  to  this  tirade 
against  herself, — 

"What  fire  is  in  mine  ears?    Can  this  be  true? 

Stand  I  condemn'd  for  pride  and  scorn  so  much?" 

The  sense  of  wounded  vanity  is  lost  in  bitter  feelings,  and 
she  is  infinitely  more  struck  by  what  is  said  in  praise  of 
Benedick,  and  the  history  of  his  supposed  love  for  her,  than 
by  the  dispraise  of  herself.  The  immediate  success  of  the 
trick  is  a  most  natural  consequence  of  the  self-assurance 
and  magnanimity  of  her  character;  she  is  so  accustomed  to 
assert  dominion  over  the  spirits  of  others  that  she  cannot 
suspect  the  possibility  of  a  plot  laid  against  herself.  .  .  . 

It  is  remarkable  that,  notwithstanding  the  point  and  vivac- 
ity of  the  dialogue,  few  of  the  speeches  of  Beatrice  are  capa- 
ble of  a  general  application,  or  engrave  themselves  distinctly 
on  the  memory  ;  they  contain  more  mirth  than  matter ;  and 
though  wit  be  the  predominant  feature  in  the  dramatic  por- 
trait, Beatrice  more  charms  and  dazzles  us  by  what  she  is 
than  by  what  she  says.  It  is  not  merely  her  sparkling  rep- 
artees and  saucy  jests,  it  is  the  soul  of  wit,  and  the  spirit 
of  gayety  informing  the  whole  character — looking  out  from 
her  brilliant  eyes,  and  laughing  on  the  full  lips  that  pout 
with  scorn — which  we  have  before  us,  moving  and  full  of 
life.  On  the  whole,  we  dismiss  Benedick  and  Beatrice  to 
their  matrimonial  bonds  rather  with  a  sense  of  amusement 
than  a  feeling  of  congratulation  or  sympathy;  rather  with  an 
acknowledgment  that  they  are  well-matched  and  worthy  of 
each  other,  than  with  any  well-founded  expectation  of  their 
domestic  tranquillity.  If,  as  Benedick  asserts,  they  are  both 
"too  wise  to  woo  peaceably,"  it  may  be  added  that  both  are 
too  wise,  too  witty,  and  too  wilful  to  live  peaceably  together. 
We  have  some  misgivings  about  Beatrice — some  apprehen- 
sions that  poor  Benedick  will  not  escape  the  "predestinated 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

scratched  face,"  which  he  had  foretold  to  him  who  should 
win  and  wear  this  quick-witted  and  pleasant-spirited  lady  ; 
yet  when  we  recollect  that  to  the  wit  and  imperious  temper 
of  Beatrice  is  united  a  magnanimity  of  spirit  which  would 
naturally  place  her  far  above  all  selfishness,  and  all  paltry 
struggles  for  power — when  we  perceive,  in  the  midst  of  her 
sarcastic  levity  and  volubility  of  tongue,  so  much  of  generous 
affection,  and  such  a  high  sense  of  female  virtue  and  honour, 
we  are  inclined  to  hope  the  best.  We  think  it  possible  that 
though  the  gentleman  may  now  and  then  swear,  and  the 
lady  scold,  the  native  good-humour  of  the  one,  the  really  fine 
understanding  of  the  other,  and  the  value  they  so  evidently 
attach  to  each  other's  esteem,  will  insure  them  a  tolerable 
portion  of  domestic  felicity;  and  in  this  hope  we  leave  them. 

NOTE  BY  THE  EDITOR. — The  poet  Campbell,  in  his  introduction  to 
the  play,  remarks :  "  Mrs.  Jameson,  in  her  characters  of  Shakespeare, 
concludes  with  hoping  that  Beatrice  will  live  happy  with  Benedick,  but 
I  have  no  such  hope  ;  and  my  final  anticipation  in  reading  the  play  is 
the  certainty  that  Beatrice  will  provoke  her  Benedick  to  give  her  much 
and  just  conjugal  castigation.  She  is  an  odious  woman.  Her  own 
cousin  says  of  her — 

*  Disdain  and  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eyes, 
Misprising  what  they  look  on,  and  her  wit 
Values  itself  so  highly  that  to  her 
All  matter  else  seems  weak:   she  cannot  love, 
Nor  take  no  shape  nor  project  of  aifection, 
She  is  so  self-endeared.' 

I  once  knew  such  a  pair  ;  the  lady  was  a  perfect  Beatrice ;  she  railed 
hypocritically  at  wedlock  before  her  marriage,  and  with  bitter  sincerity 
after  it.  She  and  her  Benedick  now  live  apart,  but  with  entire  reci- 
procity of  sentiments,  each  devoutly  wishing  that  the  other  may  soon 
pass  into  a  better  world.  Beatrice  is  not  to  be  compared,  but  contrasted, 
with  Rosalind,  who  is  eqiiafly  witty  ;  but  the  sparkling  sayings  of  Rosa- 
lind are  like  gems  upon  her  head  at  court,  and  like  dew-drops  on  her 
bright  hair  in  the  woodland  forest." 

Verplanck,  after  quoting  this  passage,  comments  upon  it  as  follows : 
"  We  extract  this  last  criticism,  partly  in  deference  to  Campbell's  gen- 
eral exquisite  taste  and  reverent  appreciation  of  Shakespeare's  genius, 
and  partly  as  an  example  of  the  manner  in  which  accidental  personal 


24  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

associations  influence  taste  and  opinion.  The  critical  poet  seems  to 
have  unhappily  suffered  under  the  caprices  or  insolence  of  some  accom- 
plished but  fantastical  female  wit,  whose  resemblance  he  thinks  he 
recognizes  in  Beatrice  ;  and  then  vents  the  offences  of  the  belle  of  Edin- 
burgh or  London  upon  her  prototype  of  Messina,  or  more  probably  of 
the  court  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Those  who,  without  encountering  any 
such  unlucky  cause  of  personal  prejudice,  have  looked  long  enough  upon 
the  rapidly  passing  generations  of  wits  and  beauties  in  the  gay  world 
to  have  noted  their  characters  as  they  first  appeared,  and  subsequently 
developed  themselves  in  after-life,  will  pronounce  a  very  different  judg- 
ment. Beatrice's  faults  are  such  as  ordinarily  spring  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  talent  and  beauty,  accompanied  with  the  high  spirits  of  youth 
and  health,  and  the  play  of  a  lively  fancy.  Her  brilliant  intellectual 
qualities  are  associated  with  strong  and  generous  feelings,  high  confi- 
dence in  female  truth  and  virtue,  warm  attachment  to  her  friends,  and 
quick,  undisguised  indignation  at  wrong  and  injustice.  There  is  the  rich 
material,  which  the  experience  and  the  sorrows  of  maturer  life,  the  affec- 
tion and  the  duties  of  the  wife  and  the  mother,  can  gradually  shape  into 
the  noblest  forms  of  matronly  excellence  ;  and  such,  we  doubt  not,  was 
the  result  shown  in  the  married  life  of  Beatrice." 

We  may  add  what  Mr.  Furnivall  says  on  the  same  subject :  "  Beatrice 
is  the  sauciest,  most  piquant,  sparkling,  madcap  girl  that  Shakspere  ever 
drew,  and  yet  a  loving,  deep-natured,  true  woman  too.  .  .  .  She  gives  her 
heart  to  Benedick.  .  .  .  The  two  understand  one  another.  We  all  know 
what  it  means.  The  brightest,  sunniest  married  life,  comfort  in  sorrow, 
doubling  of  joy.  .  .  .  The  poet  Campbell's  story  of  his  pair  was  an  utter 
mistake  :  he  never  knew  a  Beatrice." 

See  also  the  extract  from  Gervinus,  p.  18  above. 

[From  Weiss fs  "Wit,  Humor,  and  Shakspeare."*] 
At  first  it  seems  as  if  Shakspeare  intended  by  the  intro- 
duction of  Dogberry  and  his  ineffective  watch  merely  to 
interpolate  a  bit  of  comic  business,  by  parodying  the  im- 
portant phrases  and  impotent  exploits  of  the  suburban  con- 
stable. But  Dogberry's  mission  extended  farther  than  that, 
and  is  intimately  woven  with  delightful  unconsciousness  on 
his  part  into  the  fortunes  of  Hero. 

Dogberry  is  not  only  immortal  for  that,  but  his  name  will 
never  die  so  long  as  village  communities  in  either  hemi- 
*  Wit,  Humor,  and  Shakspeare,  by  John  Weiss  (Boston,  1876),  p.  75  fol. 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

sphere  elect  their  guardians  of  the  peace  and  clothe  them 
in  verbose  terrors.  If  the  town  is  unfortunately  short  of 
rascals,  the  officer  will  fear  one  in  each  bush,  or  extemporize 
one  out  of  some  unbelligerent  starveling  to  show  that  the 
majestic  instructions  of  his  townsmen  have  not  been  wasted 
on  him.  This  elaborate  inefficiency  is  frequently  selected 
by  busy  communities,  because  so  few  persons  are  there 
clumsy  enough  to  be  unemployed.  Such  a  vagrom  is  easily 
comprehended.  Dogberry  has  caught  up  the  turns  and 
idioms  of  sagacious  speech,  and  seems  to  be  blowing  them 
up  as  life-belts;  so  he  goes  bobbing  helplessly  around  in 
the  froth  of  his  talk.  .  .  .  He  is  the  most  original  of  Mal- 
aprops,  says  to  the  prince's  order  that  it  shall  be  suffigance, 
and  tells  the  watch  that  salvation  were  a  punishment  too 
good  for  them,  if  they  should  have  any  allegiance  in  them. 
He  has  furnished  mankind  with  that  adroit  phrase  of  con- 
versational escape  from  compromise, "comparisons  are  odor- 
ous." .  .  .  His  brain  seems  to  be  web- footed,  and  tumbles 
over  itself  in  trying  to  reach  swimming-water ;  as  when  he 
says,  "  Masters,  it  is  proved  already  that  you  are  little  better 
than  false  knaves,  and  it  will  go  near  to  be  thought  so  short- 
ly." This  is  the  precipitancy  of  a  child's  reasoning.  .  .  . 

Dogberry  admires  and  cossets  his  own  authority,  but  is 
too  timid  to  enforce  it  save  with  poor  old  Verges,  whose 
mental  feebleness  is  an  exact  shadow  of  Dogberry's ;  and 
the  latter  manages  to  step  upon  himself  in  amusing  uncon- 
sciousness. "  An  old  man,  sir,  and  his  wits  are  not  so  blunt 
as,  God  help,  I  would  desire  they  were."  A  good  old  man, 
sir,  but  he  will  gabble.  All  men  are  not  alike,  alas  !  So  he 
goes  on,  dismissing  himself,  and  slamming  to  the  door  with- 
out observing  it. 

But  when  the  watch  blunders  by  reason  of  idiocy  into  ar- 
resting Borachio,  who  was  the  agent  in  the  plot  against  Hero, 
the  innocent  Conrade  is  found  in  his  company,  listening  to 
his  disclosures.  He  too  is  carried  off  and  confronted  with 


26  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Dogberry  before  the  whole  "  dissembly  "  of  constables.  Then 
and  there  Conrade  calls  him  in  set  terms  an  ass. 

Dogberry  flickers  up  into  a  kind  of  lukewarmness,  and  does 
his  little  to  resent  it.  "Dost  thou  not  suspect  my  years?" 
"Thou  villain,  thou  art  full  of  piety,  as  shall  be  proved."  .  .  . 
He  was  never  called  ass  before  ;  for  Conrade  was  probably 
the  first  free-spoken  prisoner  entirely  innocent  of  malaprop- 
isms  that  he  had  ever  faced.  He  cannot  compose  his  shal- 
low fluster ;  for  it  is  as  deep  as  he  is,  and  it  even  comes 
splashing  into  the  pathos  of  the  moment  when  the  wrong 
done  to  Hero  is  discovered,  who  is  not  yet  known  to  be  still 
living.  He  wants  the  man  punished  who  called  him  ass,  not 
the  man  who  was  the  slanderer  of  Hero.  Standing  round 
him  are  noble  natures  touched  with  sorrowand  remorse; 
but  for  him  Conrade  is  "  the  plaintiff,  the  offender,"  who  did 
call  him  ass.  Dead,  shamed,  ruined  Hero,  distracted  lover, 
and  tender  father  retreat  into  a  background  upon  which  he 
scrawls  himself  an  ass.  .  .  .  Here  the  comedy  of  Dogberry's 
character  acquires  a  touch  of  humour;  for  so  are  we  obliged 
to  tolerate  in  our  profoundest  moments  the  trivialities  of 
those  who  do  not  know  or  cannot  contain  our  serious  mood. 

There  is  underlying  humour  in  the  fact  that  all  this  igno- 
rance and  inconsequence,  this  burlesquing  of  the  detective's 
business,  effects  what  the  age  and  wisdom  of  Leonato  and 
the  instinct  of  the  lover  Claudio  could  not:  namely,  the  dis- 
covery of  Hero's  innocence  and  of  the  plot  to  besmirch  her 
chastity  in  the  eyes  of  her  lover.  The  wise  men  are  taken 
in,  and  the  accident  of  folly  undeceives  them.  Then  it  be- 
comes no  longer  an  accident,  but  the  regimen  of  the  world 
adopts  and  puts  it  to  a  use.  Here  comedy  becomes  humor- 
ous, because  it  is  shown  how  the  fortunes  of  the  good  and 
prudent  are  involved  with  all  the  vulgarities  of  the  world, 
and  justice  itself,  which  is  nothing  if  not  critical,  cannot 
make  up  its  case  without  non-sequiturs. 


MUCH    ADO    ABOUT    NOTHING. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONM. 

DON  PEDRO,  prince  of  Arragon. 
DON  JOHN,  his  bastard  brother. 
CLAUDIO,  a  young  lord  of  Florence. 
BENEDICK,  a  young  lord  of  Padua. 
LEONATO,  governor  of  Messina. 
ANTONIO,  his  brother. 
BALTHAZAR,  attendant  on  Don  Pedro. 

CONRADE,    ) 

BORACHIO,  I    followers  of  Den  John. 

FRIAR  FRANCIS. 

DOGBERRY,  a  constable. 

VERGES,  a  headborough. 

A  Sexton. 

A  Boy. 


HERO,  daughter  to  Leonato. 
BEATRICE,  niece  to  Leonato. 

URSU5A*BTf  }   gentlewomen  attending  on  Hera 


Messengers,  Watch,  Attendants,  &c. 
SCENE:  Messina. 


ACT  I. 

SCENE  I.     Before  Leonato'' s  House. 
Enter  LEONATO,  HERO,  and  BEATRICE,  with  a  Messenger. 

Leonato.  I  learn  in  this  letter  that  Don  Pedro  of  Arragon 
comes  this  night  to  Messina. 

Messenger.  He  is  very  near  by  this ;  he  was  not  three 
leagues  off  when  I  left  him. 

Leonato.  How  many  gentlemen  have  you  lost  in  this 
action  ? 

Messenger.  But  few  of  any  sort,  and  none  of  name. 

Leonato.  A  victory  is  twice  itself  when  the  achiever  brings 
home  full  numbers.  I  find  here  that  Don  Pedro  hath  be- 
stowed much  honour  on  a  young  Florentine  called  Claudio. 

Messenger.   Much  deserved  on   his  part  and   equally  re- 


3o  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  !\7OTHING. 

membered  by  Don  Pedro ;  he  hath  borne  himself  beyond 
the  promise  of  his  age,  doing  in  the  figure  of  a  lamb  the 
feats  of  a  lion  :-he  hath  indeed  better  bettered  expectation 
than  you  must  expect  of  me  to  tell  you  how.  J5 

Leonato.  He  hath  an  uncle  here  in  Messina  will  be  very 
much  glad  of  it. 

Messenger.  I  have  already  delivered  him  letters,  and  there 
appears  much  joy  in  him  ;  even  so  much  that  joy  could  not 
show  itself  modest  enough  without  a  badge  of  bitterness. 

Leonato.  Did  he  break  out  into  tears  ?  21 

Messenger.   In  great  measure. 

Leonato.  A  kind  overflow  of  kindness;  there  are  no  faces 
truer  than  those  that  are  so  washed.  How  much  better  is  it 
to  weep  at  joy  than  to  joy  at  weeping ! 

Beatrice.  I  pray  you,  is  Signior  Montanto  returned  from 
the  wars  or  no  ? 

Messenger.  I  know  none  of  that  name,  lady ;  there  was 
none  such  in  the  army  of  any  sort. 

Leonato.  What  is  he  that  you  ask  for,  niece  ?  30 

Hero.   My  cousin  means  Signior  Benedick  of  Padua. 

Messenger.  O,  he  's  returned ;  and  as  pleasant  as  ever  he 
was. 

Beatrice.  He  set  up  his  bills  here  in  Messina  and  chal- 
lenged Cupid  at  the  flight ;  and  my  uncle's  fool,  reading  the 
challenge,  subscribed  for  Cupid,  and  challenged  him  at  the 
bird-bolt.  I  pray  you,  how  many  hath  he  killed  and  eaten 
in  these  wars?  But  how  many  hath  he  killed?  for  indeed  I 
promised  to  eat  all  of  his  killing. 

Leonato.  Faith,  niece,  you  tax  Signior  Benedick  too  much  ; 
but  he  '11  be  meet  with  you,  I  cloubt  it  not.  4x 

Messenger.  He  hath  done  good  service,  lady,  in  these  wars. 

Beatrice.  You  had  musty  victual,  and  he  hath  holp  to  eat 
it :  he  is  a  very  valiant  trencher-man  ;  he  hath  an  excellent 
stomach. 

Messenger.   And  a  good  soldier  too,  lady. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I.  31 

Beatrice.  And  a  good  soldier  to  a  lady  ;  but  what  is  he  to 
a  lord  ? 

Messenger.  A  lord  to  a  lord,  a  man  to  a  man;  stuffed  with 
all  honourable  virtues.  5° 

Beatrice.  It  is  so,  indeed  ;  he  is  tro  less  than  a  stuffed 
man  :  but  for  the  stuffing, — well,  we  are  all  mortal. 

Leonato.  You  must  not,  sir,  mistake  my  niece.  There  is 
a  kind  of  merry  war  betwixt  Signior  Benedick  and  her  ; 
they  never  meet  but  there  's  a  skirmish  of  wit  between  them. 

Beatrice.  Alas !  he  gets  nothing  by  that.  In  our  last 
conflict  four  of  his  five  wits  went  halting  off,  and  now  is  the 
whole  man  governed  with  one  :  so  that  if  he  have  wit  enough 
to  keep  himself  warm,  let  him  bear  it  for  a  difference  between 
himself  and  his  horse  ;  for  it  is  all  the  wealth  that  he  hath 
left,  to  be  known  a  reasonable  creature. — Who  is  his  com- 
panion now  ?  He  hath  every  month  a  new  sworn  brother. 

Messenger.  Is  't  possible  ?  63 

Beatrice.  Very  easily  possible :  he  wears  his  faith  but  as 
the  fashion  of  his  hat ;  it  ever  changes  with  the  next  block. 

Messenger.  I  see,  lady,  the  gentleman  is  not  in  your  books. 

Beatrice.  No;  an  he  were,  I  would  burn  my  study.  But,  I 
pray  you,  who  is  his  companion?  Is  there  no  young  squarer 
now  that  will  make  a  voyage  with  him  to  the  devil  ? 

Messenger.  He  is  most  in  the  company  of  the  right  noble 
Claudio.  7i 

Beatrice.  O  Lord,  he  will  hang  upon  him  like  a  disease  ; 
he  is  sooner  caught  than  the  pestilence,  and  the  taker  runs 
presently  mad.  God  help  the  noble  Claudio  !  if  he  have 
caught  the  Benedick,  it  will  cost  him  a  thousand  pound  ere 
he  be  cured. 

Messenger.   I  will  hold  friends  with  you,  lady. 

Beatrice.  Do,  good  friend. 

Leonato.  You  will  never  run  mad,  niece. 

Beatrice.  No,  not  till  a  hot  January.  80 

Messenger.   Don  Pedro  is  approached. 


32  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Enter  DON  PEDRO,  DON  JOHN,  CLAUDIO,  BENEDICK,  and 
BALTHAZAR. 

Don  Pedro.  Good  Signior  Leonato,  you  are  come  to  meet 
your  trouble ;  the  fashion  of  the  world  is  to  avoid  cost,  and 
you  encounter  it. 

Leonato.  Never  came  trouble  to  my  house  in  the  likeness 
of  your  grace :  for  trouble  being  gone,  comfort  should  re- 
main ;  but  when  you  depart  from  me,  sorrow  abides  and 
happiness  takes  his  leave. 

Don  Pedro.  You  embrace  your  charge  too  willingly.  I 
think  this  is  your  daughter.  90 

-J  Leonato.  Her  mother  hath  many  times  told  me  so. 

Benedick.  Were  you  in  doubt,  sir,  that  you  asked  her  ? 
I  Leonato.  Signior  Benedick,  no  ;  for  then  were  you  a  child. 
-  Don  Pedro.  You  have  it  full,  Benedick  ;  we  may  guess  by 
this  what  you  are,  being  a  man.  Truly,  the  lady  fathers 
herself. — Be  happy,  lady ;  for  you  are  like  an  honourable 
father. 

Benedick.  If  Signior  Leonato  be  her  father,  she  would  not 
have  his  head  on  her  shoulders  for  all  Messina,  as  like  him 
as  she  is.  100 

Beatrice.  I  wonder  that  you  will  still  be  talking,  Signior 
Benedick  ;  nobody  marks  you. 

Benedick.  What,  my  dear  Lady  Disdain  !  are  you  yet  liv- 
ing? 

Beatrice.  Is  it  possible  disdain  should  die  while  she  hath 
such  meet  food  to  feed  it  as  Signior  Benedick?  Courtesy 
itself  must  convert  to  disdain,  if  you  come  in  her  presence. 

Benedick.  Then  is  courtesy  a  turncoat.  But  it  is  certain  I 
am  loved  of  all  ladies,  only  you  excepted :  and  I  would  I 
could  find  in  my  heart  that  I  had  not  a  hard  heart ;  for, 
truly,  I  love  none.  m 

Beatrice.  A  dear  happiness  to  women  ;  they  would  else 
have  been  troubled  with  a  pernicious  suitor.  I  thank  God 


ACT  I.     SCENE  L  33 

and  my  cold  blood,  I  am  of  your  humour  for  that ;  I  had 
rather  hear  my  dog  bark  at  a  crow  than  a  man  swear  he 
loves  me. 

Benedick.  God  keep  your  ladyship  still  in  that  mind  !  so 
some  gentleman  or  other  shall  scape  a  predestinate  scratched 
face. 

Beatrice.  Scratching  could  not  make  it  worse,  an  't  were 
such  a  face  as  yours  were.  121 

Benedick.  Well,  you  are  a  rare  parrot-teacher. 

Beatrice.  A  bird  of  my  tongue  is  better  than  a  beast  of 
yours. 

Benedick.  I  would  my  horse  had  the  speed  of  your  tongue, 
and  so  good  a  continuer.  But  keep  your  way,  o'  God's 
name  ;  I  have  done. 

Beatrice.  You  always  end  with  a  jade's  trick;  I  know  you 
of  old.  129 

Don  Pedro.  That  is  the  sum  of  all,  Leonato. —  Signior 
Claudio  and  Signior  Benedick,  my  dear  friend  Leonato  hath 
invited  you  all.  I  tell  him  we  shall  stay  here  at  the  least  a 
month ;  and  he  heartily  prays  some  occasion  may  detain  us 
longer.  I  dare  swear  he  is  no  hypocrite,  but  prays  from  his 
heart. 

Leonato.  If  you  swear,  my  lord,  you  shall  not  be  forsworn. 
• — \To  Don  Johri\  Let  me  bid  you  welcome,  my  lord  :  being 
reconciled  to  the  prince  your  brother,  I  owe  you  all  duty. 

Don  John.  I  thank  you  ;  I  am  not  of  many  words,  but  I 
thank  you.  140 

Leonato.  Please  it  your  grace  lead  on  ? 

Don  Pedro.  Your  hand,  Leonato  ;  we  will  go  together. 

\Exeunt  all  except  Benedick  and  Claudio. 

Claudio.  Benedick,  didst  thou  note  the  daughter  of  Signior 
Leonato  ? 

Benedick.  I  noted  her  not ;  but  I  looked  on  her. 

Claudio.  Is  she  not  a  modest  young  lady  ? 

Benedick.  Do  you  question  me,  as  an  honest  man  should 

C 


34  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

do,  for  my  simple  true  judgment;  or  would  you  have  me 
speak  after  my  custom,  as  being  a  professed  tyrant  to  their 
sex  ?  150 

Claudio.  No ;  I  pray  thee  speak  in  sober  judgment. 

Benedick.  Why,  i'  faith,  methinks  she  's  too  low  for  a  high 
praise,  too  brown  for  a  fair  praise,  and  too  little  for  a  great 
praise  :  only  this  commendation  I  can  afford  her,  that  were 
she  other  than  she  is,  she  were  unhandsome ;  and  being  no 
other  but  as  she  is,  I  do  not  like  her. 

Claudio.  Thou  thinkest  I  am  in  sport ;  I  pray  thee  tell 
me  truly  how  thou  likest  her. 

Benedick.  Would  you  buy  her,  that  you  inquire  after  her  ? 

Claudio.  Can  the  world  buy  such  a  jewel*  ?  160 

Benedick.  Yea,  and  a  case  to  put  it  into.  But  speak  you 
this  with  a  sad  brow?  or  do  you  play  the  flouting  Jack,  to 
tell  us  Cupid  is  a  good  hare-finder  and  Vulcan  a  rare  car- 
penter ?  Come,  in  what  key  shall  a  man  take  you,  to  go  in 
the  song? 

Claudio.  In  mine  eye  she  is  the  sweetest  lady  that  ever  I 
looked  on. 

Benedick.  I  can  see  yet  without  spectacles  and  I  see  no 
such  matter ;  there  's  her  cousin,  an  she  were  not  possessed 
with  a  fury,  exceeds  her  as  much  in  beauty  as  the  first  of 
May  doth  the  last  of  December.  But  I  hope  you  have  no 
intent  to  turn  husband,  have  you  ?  172 

Claudio.  I  would  scarce  trust  myself,  though  I  had  sworn 
the  contrary,  if  Hero  would  be  my  wife. 

Benedick.  Is  't  come  to  this,  i'  faith?  Hath  not  the  world 
one  man  but  he  will  wear  his  cap  with  suspicion  ?  Shall  I 
never  see  a  bachelor  of  threescore  again  ?  Go  to,  i'  faith  ; 
an  thou  wilt  needs  thrust  thy  neck  into  a  yoke,  wear  the 
print  of  it  and  sigh  away  Sundays.  Look,  Don  Pedro  is 
returned  to  seek  you. 


ACT  I.     SCENE  L  35 

Re-enter  DON  PEDRO. 

Don  Pedro.  What  secret  hath  held  you  here,  that  you* fol- 
lowed not  to  Leonato's?  181 

Benedick.  I  would  your  grace  would  constrain  me  to  tell. 

Don  Pedro.  I  charge  thee  on  thy  allegiance. 

Benedick.  You  hear,  Count  Clauclio :  I  can  be  secret  as  a 
dumb  man,  I  would  have  you  think  so  ;  but,  on  my  alle- 
giance, mark  you  this,  on  my  allegiance.  —  He  is  in  love. 
With  who?  now  that  is  your  grace's  part.  Mark  how  short 
his  answer  is  : — With  Hero,  Leonato's  short  daughter. 

Claudio.  If  thjs  were  so,  so  were  it  uttered. 

Benedick.  Like  the  old  tale,  my  lord  :  '  it  is  not  so,  nor 
't  was  not  so,  but,  indeed,  God  forbid  it  should  be  so.'  191 

Claudio.  If  my  passion  change  not  shortly,  God  forbid  it 
should  be  otherwise. 

Don  Pedro.  Amen,  if  you  love  her ;  for  the  lady  is  very 
well  worthy. 

Claudio.  You  speak  this  to  fetch  me  in,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  By  my  troth,  I  speak  my  thought. 

Claudio.  And,  in  faith,  my  lord,  I  spoke  mine. 

Benedick.  And,  by  my  two  faiths  and  troths,  my  lord,  I 
spoke  mine.  200 

Claudio.  That  I  love  her,  I  feel. 

Don  Pedro.  That  she  is  worthy,  I  know. 

Benedick.  That  I  neither  feel  how  she  should  be  loved  nor 
know  how  she  should  be  worthy,  is  the  opinion  that  fire  can- 
not melt  out  of  me ;  I  will  die  in  it  at  the  stake. 

Don  Pedro.  Thou  wast  ever  an  obstinate  heretic  in  the 
despite  of  beauty. 

Claudio.  And  never  could  maintain  his  part  but  in  the 
force  of  his  will.  209 

Benedick.  That  a  woman  conceived  me,  I  thank  her ;  that 
she  brought  me  up,  I  likewise  give  her  most  humble  thanks : 

but  that  I  will  have  a  recheat  winded  in  mv  forehead,  or 

s 


36  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

hang  my  bugle  in  an  invisible  baldrick,  all  women  shall  par- 
don me.  Because  I  will  not  do  them  the  wrong  to  mistrust 
any,  I  will  do  myself  the  right  to  trust  none  ;  and  the  fine  is, 
for  the  which  I  may  go  the  finer,  I  will  live  a 


Don  Pedro.  I  shall  see  thee,  ere  I  die,  look  pale  with 
love.  218 

Benedick.  With  anger,  with  sickness,  or  with  hunger,  my 
lord,  not  with  love  ;  prove  that  ever  I  lose  more  blood  with 
love  than  I  will  get  again  with  drinking,  pick  out  mine  eyes 
with  a  ballad-maker's  pen  and  hang  me  up  at  the  door  of  a 
brothel-house  for  the  sign  of  blind  Cupid. 

Don  Pedro.  Well,  if  ever  thou  dost  fall  from  this  faith,  thou 
wilt  prove  a  notable  argument. 

Benedick.  If  I  do,  hang  me  in  a  bottle  like  a  cat  and  shoot 
at  me  ;  and  he  that  hits  me,  let  him  be  clapped  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  called  Adam. 

Don  Pedro.  Well,  as  time  shall  try  ; 
'  In  time  the  savage  bull  doth  bear  the  yoke/  230 

Benedick.  The  savage  bull  may,  but  if  ever  the  sensible 
Benedick  bear  it,  pluck  off  the  bull's  horns  and  set  them  in 
my  forehead  ;  and  let  me  be  vilely  painted,  and  in  such  great 
letters  as  they  write  4  Here  is  good  horse  to  hire/  let  them 
signify  under  my  sign  '  Here  you  may  see  Benedick  the  mar- 
ried man.' 

Claudio.  If  this  should  ever  happen,  thou  wouldst  be 
horn-mad. 

Don  Pedro.  Nay,  if  Cupid  have  not  spent  all  his  quiver  in 
Venice,  thou  wilt  quake  for  this  shortly.  240 

Benedick.  I  look  for  an  earthquake  too,  then. 

Don  Pedro.  Well,  you  will  temporize  with  the  hours.  In 
the  meantime,  good  Signior  Benedick,  repair  to  Leonato's  : 
commend  me  to  him,  and  tell  him  I  will  not  fail  him  at  sup- 
per ;  for  indeed  he  hath  made  great  preparation. 

Benedick.  I  have  almost  matter  enough  in  me  for  such  an 
embnssage  ;  and  so  I  commit  you  — 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 


37 


Claudia.  To  the  tuition  of  God  :  from  my  house,  if  I  had 
it, —  249 

Don  Pedro.  The  sixth  of  July :  your  loving  friend,  Benedick. 

Benedick.  Nay,  mock  net,  mock  not.  The  body  of  your 
discourse  is  sometime  guarded  with  fragments,  and  the 
guards  are  but  slightly  basted  on  neither  :  ere  you  flout  old 
ends  any  further,  examine  your  conscience ;  and  so  I  leave 
you.  \_Exit. 

Claudia.  My  liege,  your  highness  now  may  do  me  good. 

Don  Pedro.  My  love  is  thine  to  teach ;  teach  it  but  how, 
And  thou  shalt  see  how  apt  it  is  to  learn 
Any  hard  lesson  that  may  do  thee  good. 

Claudio.  Hath  Leonato  any  son,  my  lord  ?  260 

Don  Pedro.  No  child  but  Hero ;  she  's  his  only  heir. 
Dost  thou  affect  her,  Claudio  ? 

Claudio.  O,  my  lord, 

When  you  went  onward  on  this  ended  action, 
I  Ipok'd  upon  her  with  a  soldier's  eye, 
That  lik'd,  but  had  a  rougher  task  in  hand 
Than  to  drive  liking  to  the  name  of  love ; 
But  now  I  am  return 'd  and  that  war-thoughts 
Have  left  their  places  vacant,  in  their  rooms 
Come  thronging  soft  and  delicate  desires, 
All  prompting  me  how  fair  young  Hero  is,  270 

Saying,  I  lik'd  her  ere  I  went  to  wars, — 

Don  Pedro.  Thou  wilt  be  like  a  lover  presently 
And  tire  the  hearer  with  a  book  of  words. 
If  thou  dost  love  fair  Hero,  cherish  it, 
And  I  will  break  with  her  and  with  her  father, 
And  thou  shalt  have  her.     Was  't  not  to  this  end 
That  thou  began 'st  to  twist  so  fine  a  story  ? 

Claudio.  How  sweetly  you  do  minister  to  love, 
That  know  love's  grief  by  his  complexion  ! 
But  lest  my  liking  might  too  sudden  seem,  280 

I  would  have  salv'd  it  with  a  longer  treatise. 


38  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Don  Pedro.  What  need  the  bridge  much  broader  than  the 

flood  ? 

The  fairest  grant  is  the  necessity. 
Look,  what  will  serve  is  fit ;  Jt  is  once,  thou  lovest, 
And  I  will  fit  thee  with  the  remedy. 
I  know  we  shall  have  revelling  to-night ; 
I  will  assume  thy  part  in  some  disguise 
And  tell  fair  Hero  I  am  Claudio, 
And  in  her  bosom  I  '11  unclasp  my  heart 
And  take  her  hearing  prisoner  with  the  force  290 

And  strong  encounter  of  my  amorous  tale : 
Then  after  to  her  father  will  I  break ; 
And  the  conclusion  is,  she  shall  be  thine. 
In  practice  let  us  put  it  presently.  {Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     A  Room  in  Leonato' s  House. 
Enter  LEONATO  and  ANTONIO,  meeting. 

Leonato.  How  now,  brother !  Where  is  my  cousin,  your 
son  ?  hath  he  provided  this  music  ? 

Antonio.  He  is  very  busy  about  it.  But,  brother,  I  can 
tell  you  strange  news  that  you  yet  dreamt  not  of. 

Leonato.  Are  they  good  ? 

Antonio.  As  the  event  stamps  them  ;  but  they  have  a 
good  cover,  they  show  well  outward.  The  prince  and  Count 
Claudio,  walking  in  a  thick-pleached  alley  in  mine  orchard, 
were  thus  much  overheard  by  a  man  of  mine  :  the  prince 
discovered  to  Claudio  that  he  loved  my  niece  your  daughter 
and  meant  to  acknowledge  it  this  night  in  a  dance  ;  and  if 
he  found  her  accordant,  he  meant  to  take  the  present  time 
by  the  top  and  instantly  break  with  you  of  it.  13 

Leonato.  Hath  the  fellow  any  wit  that  told  you  this? 

Antonio.  A  good  sharp  fellow ;  I  will  send  for  him,  and 
question  him  yourself. 

Leonato.  No,  no ;  we  will  hold  it  as  a  dream  till  it  appear 


ACT  I.    SCENE  III.  39 

itself:  but  I  will  acquaint  rny  daughter  withal,  that  she  may 
be  the  better  prepared  for  an  answer,  if  peradventure  this 
be  true.  Go  you  and  tell  her  of  it.  \Enter  attendants^ 
Cousins,  you  know  what  you  have  to  do.  —  O,  I  cry  you 
mercy,  friend  ;  go  you  with  me,  and  I  will  use  your  skill.  — 
Good  cousin,  have  a  care  this  busy  time.  \Exeunt. 


SCENE  III.     The  Same. 
Enter  DON  JOHN  and  CONRADE. 

Conrade.  What  the  good-year,  my  lord  !  why  are  you  thus 
out  of  measure  sad  ? 

Don  John.  There  is  no  measure  in  the  occasion  that 
breeds  it  ;  therefore  the  sadness  is  without  limit. 

Conrade.  You  should  hear  reason. 

Don  John.  And  when  I  have  heard  it,  what  blessing 
brings  it  ? 

Conrade.  If  not  a  present  remedy,  at  least  a  patient  suf- 
ferance. 9 

Don  John.  I  wonder  that  thou,  being,  as  thou  sayest  thou 
art,  born  under  Saturn,  goest  about  to  apply  a  moral  medi- 
cine to  a  mortifying  mischief.  I  cannot  hide  what  I  am  ;  I 
must  be  sad  when  I  have  cause  and  smile  at  no  man's  jests, 
eat  when  I  have  stomach  and  wait  for  no  man's  leisure,  sleep 
when  I  am  drowsy  and  tend  on  no  man's  business,  laugh 
when  I  am  merry  and  claw  no  man  in  his  humour.  16 

Conrade.  Yea,  but  you  must  not  make  the  full  show  of 
this  till  you  may  do  it  without  controlment.  You  have  of 
late  stood  out  against  your  brother,  and  he  hath  ta'en  you 
newly  into  his  grace,  where  it  is  impossible  you  should  take 
true  root  but  by  the  fair  weather  that  you  make  yourself;  it 
is  needful  that  you  frame  the  season  for  your  own  harvest. 

Don  John.  I  had  rather  be  a  canker  in  a  hedge  than  a 
rose  in  his  grace,  and  it  better  fits  my  blood  to  be  disdained 
of  all  than  to  fashion  a  carriage  to  rob  love  from  any  ;  in 


4o         MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

this,  though  I  cannot  be  said  to  be  a  flattering  honest  man, 
it  must  not  be  denied  but  I  am  a  plain-dealing  villain.  I 
am  trusted  with  a  muzzle  and  enfranchised  with  a  clog  • 
therefore  I  have  decreed  not  to  sing  in  my  cage.  If  I  had 
my  mouth,  I  would  bite ;  if  I  had  my  liberty,  I  would  do  my 
liking:  in  the  mean  time  let  me  be  that  I  am  and  seek 
not  to  alter  me.  32 

Conrade.  Can  you  make  no  use  of  your  discontent? 

Don  John.  I  make  all  use  of  it,  for  I  use  it  only. — Who 
comes  here  ? — 

Enter  BORACHIO. 

What  news,  Borachio  ? 

Borachio.  I  came  yonder  from  a  great  supper :  the  prince 
your  brother  is  royally  entertained  by  Leonato ;  and  I  can 
give  you  intelligence  of  an  intended  marriage.  39 

Don  John.  Will  it  serve  for  any  model  to  build  mischief 
on?  What  is  he  for  a  fool  that  betroths  himself  to  unquiet- 
ness? 

Borachio.  Marry,  it  is  your  brother's  right  hand. 

Don  John.  Who?  the  most  exquisite  Claudio? 

Borachio.  Even  he. 

Don  John.  A  proper  squire  !  And  who,  and  who  ?  which 
way  looks  he  ? 

Borachio.  Marry,  on  Hero,  the  daughter  and  heir  of  Le- 
onato. 49 

Don  John.  A  very  forward  March- chick  !  How  came 
you  to  this? 

Borachio.  Being  entertained  for  a  perfumer,  as  I  was  smok- 
ing a  musty  room,  comes  me  the  prince  and  Claudio,  hand 
in  hand,  in  sad  conference ;  I  whipt  me  behind  the  arras, 
and  there  heard  it  agreed  upon  that  the  prince  should  woo 
Hero  for  himself,  and  having  obtained  her,  give  her  to  Count 
Claudio. 

Don  John.  Come,  come,  let  us  thither;  this  may  prove 


ACT  I.     SCENE   IIL  41 

food  to  my  displeasure.     That  young  start-up  hath  all  the 
glory  of  my  overthrow ;  if  I  can  cross  him  any  way,  I  bless 
myself  every  way.    You  are  both  sure,  and  will  assist  me  ? 
Conrade.  To  the  death,  my  lord.  62 

Don  John.  Let  us  to  the  great  supper  :  their  cheer  is  the 
greater  that  I  am  subdued.  Would  the  cook  were  of  my 
mind  !  Shall  we  go  prove  what  's  to  be  done  ? 

Borachio.  We  '11  wait  upon  your  lordship.  {Exeunt. 


"the  little  hangman"  (iii.  2.  10). 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  I.     A  Hall  in  LEONATO'S  House. 
Enter  LEONATO,  ANTONIO,  HERO,  BEATRICE,  and  others. 

Leonato.  Was  not  Count  John  here  at  supper? 
Antonio.  I  saw  him  not. 

Beatrice.  How  tartly  that  gentleman  looks  !     I  never  can 
see  him  but  I  am  heart-burned  an  hour  after. 
Hero.  He  is  of  a  very  melancholy  disposition. 


ACT  IL     SCENE   I.  43 

Beatrice.  He  were  an  excellent  man  that  were  made  just 
in  the  midway  between  him  and  Benedick  ;  the  one  is  too 
like  an  image  and  says  nothing,  and  the  other  too  like  my 
hidy's  eldest  son,  evermore  tattling.  9 

Leonato.  Then  half  Signior  Benedick's  tongue  in  Count 
John's  mouth,  and  half  Count  John's  melancholy  in  Signior 
Benedick's  face, — 

Beatrice.  With  a  good  leg  and  a  good  foot,  uncle,  and 
money  enough  in  his  purse,  such  a  man  would  win  any 
woman  in  the  world, — if  he  could  get  her  good-will. 

Leonato.  By  my  troth,  niece,  thou  wilt  never  get  thee  a 
husband,  if  thou  be  so  shrewd  of  thy  tongue. 

Antonio.  In  faith,  she  's  too  curst. 

Beatrice.  Too  curst  is  more  than  curst :  I  shall  lessen 
God's  sending  that  way ;  for  it  is  said,  '  God  sends  a  curst 
cow  short  horns ;'  but  to  a  cow  too  curst  he  sends  none.  21 

Leonato.  So,  by  being  too  curst,  God  will  send  you  no 
horns. 

Beatrice.  Just,  if  he  send  me  no  husband;  for  the  which 
blessing  I  am  at  him  upon  my  knees  every  morning  and 
evening.  Lord  !  I  could  not  endure  a  husband  with  a  beard 
on  his  face  ;  I  had  rather  lie  in  the  woollen. 

Leonato.  You  may  light  on  a  husband  that  hath  no  beard. 

Beatrice.  What  should  I  do  with  him  ?  dress  him  in  my 
apparel  and  make  him  my  waiting-gentlewoman  ?  He  that 
hath  a  beard  is  more  than  a  youth,  and  he  that  hath  no 
beard  is  less  than  a  man  ;  and  he  that  is  more  than  a  youth 
is  not  for  me,  and  he  that  is  less  than  a  man  I  am  not  for 
him  :  therefore  I  will  even  take  sixpence  in  earnest  of  the 
bear-herd,  and  lead  his  apes  into  hell.  35 

Leonato.  Well,  then,  go  you  into  hell  ? 

Beatrice.  No,  but  to  the  gate  ;  and  there  will  the  devil 
meet  me,  like  an  old  cuckold,  with  horns  on  his  head,  and 
say  '  Get  you  to  heaven,  Beatrice,  get  you  to  heaven ;  here  's 
no  place  for  you  maids  :'  so  deliver  I  up  my  apes,  and  away 


44  MUCH  ADO   ABOUT  NOTHING. 

to  Saint  Peter  for  the  heavens ;  he  shows  me  where  the 
bachelors  sit,  and  there  live  we  as  merry  as  the  day  is 
long. 

Antonio.  \To  Hero\  Well,  niece,  I  trust  you  will  be  ruled 
by  your  father.  44 

Beatrice.  Yes,  faith  -3  it  is  my  cousin's  duty  to  make  curt- 
sy and  say  'Father,  as  it  please  you.' — But  yet  for  all  that, 
cousin,  let  him  be  a  handsome  fellow,  or  else  make  another 
curtsy  and  say  '  Father,  as  it  please  me.' 

Leonato.  Well,  niece,  I  hope  to  see  you  one  day  fitted 
with  a  husband.  50 

Beatrice.  Not  till  God  make  men  of  some  other  metal 
than  earth.  Would  it  not  grieve  a  woman  to  be  overmas- 
tered with  a  piece  of  valiant  dust  ?  to  make  an  account  of 
her  life  to  a  clod  of  wayward  marl?  No,  uncle,  I  '11  none  : 
Adam's  sons  are  my  brethren ;  and,  truly,  I  hold  it  a  sin 
to  match  in  my  kindred. 

Leonato.  Daughter,  remember  what  I  told  you ;  if  the 
prince  do  solicit  you  in  that  kind,  you  know  your  answer. 

Beatrice.  The  fault  will  be  in  the  music,  cousin,  if  you 
be  not  wooed  in  good  time ;  if  the  prince  be  too  important, 
tell  him  there  is  measure  in  every  thing,  and  so  dance  out 
the  answer.  For,  hear  me,  Hero  ;  wooing,  wedding,  and  re- 
penting, is  as  a  Scotch  jig,  a  measure,  and  a  cinque-pace  : 
the  first  suit  is  hot  and  hasty,  like  a  Scotch  jig,  and  full  as 
fantastical ;  the  wedding,  mannerly -modest,  as  a  measure, 
full  of  state  and  ancientry ;  and  then  comes  repentance, 
and  with  his  bad  legs  falls  into  the  cinque-pace  faster  and 
faster,  till  he  sink  into  his  grave. 

Leonato.  Cousin,  you  apprehend  passing  shrewdly. 

Beatrice.  I  have  a  good  eye,  uncle ;  I  can  see  a  church 
by  daylight.  7i 

Leonato.  The  revellers  are  entering,  brother ;  make  good 
room.  \All put  on  their  masks. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I.  45 

Enter  DON  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  BENEDICK,  BALTHAZAR,  DON 
JOHN,  BORACHIO,  MARGARET,  URSULA,  and  others,  masked. 

Don  Pedro.  Lady,  will  you  walk  about  with  your  friend  ? 

Hero.  So  you  walk  softly  and  look  sweetly  and  say  noth- 
ing, I  am  yours  for  the  walk ;  and  especially  when  I  walk 
away. 

Don  Pedro.  With  me  in  your  company  ? 

Hero.  I  may  say  so,  when  I  please. 

Don  Pedro.  And  when  please  you  to  say  so  ?  80 

Hero.  When  I  like  your  favour;  for  God  defend  the  lute 
should  be  like  the  case  ! 

Don  Pedro.  My  visor  is  Philemon's  roof;  within  the  house 
is  Jove. 

Hero.  Why,  then,  your  visor  should  be  thatch'd. 

Don  Pedro.  Speak  low,  if  you  speak  love. 

^Drawing  her  aside. 

Balthazar.  Well,  I  would  you  did  like  me. 

Margaret,  So  would  not  I,  for  your  own  sake ;  for  I  have 
many  ill  qualities. 

Balthazar.  Which  is  one  ? 

Margaret.  I  say  my  prayers  aloud.  9o 

Balthazar.  I  love  you  the  better ;  the  hearers  may  cry 
Amen. 

Margaret.  God  match  me  with  a  good  dancer! 

Balthazar.  Amen. 

Margaret.  And  God  keep  him  out  of  my  sight  when  the 
dance  is  done  !  Answer,  clerk. 

Balthazar.  No  more  words  ;  the  clerk  is  answered. 

Ursula.  I  know  you  well  enough ;  you  are  Signior  An- 
tonio. 

Antonio.  At  a  word,  I  am  not.  io« 

Ursula.  I  know  you  by  the  waggling  of  your  head. 

Antonio.  To  tell  you  true,  I  counterfeit  him. 

Ursula.  You  could  never  do  him  so  ill-well,  unless  you 


46  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

were  the  very  man.     Here  's  his  dry  hand  up  and  down ; 
you  are  he,  you  are  he. 

Antonio.   At  a  word,  I  am  not. 

Ursula.  Come,,  come,  do  you   think  I  do   not  know  you 
by  your  excellent  wit?  can  virtue  hide  itself?     Go  to,  mum, 
you  are  he ;  graces  will  appear,  and  there  's  an  end. 
^Beatrice.  Will  you  not  tell  me  who  told  you  so?  no 

Benedick.  No,  you  shall  pardon  me. 

Beatrice.   Nor  will  you  not  tell  me  who  you  are  ? 

Benedick.  Not  now. 

Beatrice.  That  I  was  disdainful,  and  that  I  had  my  good 
wit  -out  of  the  '  Hundred  Merry  Tales:'  —  well,  this  was 
Signior  Benedick  that  said  so. 

Benedick.  What  's  he  ? 

Beatrice.  I  am  sure  you  know  him  well  enough. 

Benedick.  Not  I,  believe  me. 

Beatrice.  Did  he  never  make  you  laugh?  120 

Benedick.  I  pray  you,  what  is  he  ? 

Beatrice.  Why,  he  is  the  prince's  jester:  a  very  dull  fool  ; 
only  his  gift  is  in  devising  impossible  slanders  :  none  but 
libertines  delight  in  him  ;  and  the  commendation  is  not  in 
his  wit,  but  in  his  villany  ;  for  he  both  pleases  men  and  an- 
gers them,  and  then  they  laugh  at  him  and  beat  him.  I  am 
sure  he  is  in  the  fleet ;  I  would  he  had  boarded  me. 

Benedick.  When  I  know  the  gentleman,  I  '11  tell  him  what 
yon  say.  129 

Beatrice.  Do,  clo :  he  '11  but  break  a  comparison  or  two 
on  me ;  which,  peradventure  not  marked  or  not  laughed 
at,  strikes  him  into  melancholy  ;  and  then  there  's  a  par- 
tridge wing  saved,  for  the  fool  will  eat  no  supper  that  night. 
\_Music.~\  We  must  follow  the  leaders. 

Benedick.  In  every  good  thing. 

Beatrice.  Nay,  if  they  lead  to  any  ill,  I  will  leave  them  at 
the  next  turning.  [Dance.  Then  exeunt  all  except  Don 

John,  Borachio,  and  Claudio. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  L  47 

Lon  John.  Sure  my  brother  is  amorous  on  Hero  and 
hath  withdrawn  her  father  to  break  with  him  about  it.  The 
ladies  follow  her  and  but  one  visor  remains.  MO 

Borachio.  And  that  is  Claudio;  I  know  him  by  his  bear- 
ing. 

Don  John.  Are  not  you  Signior  Benedick  ? 

Claudio.  You  know  me  well ;  I  am  he. 

Don  John.  Signior,  you  are  very  near  my  brother  in  his 
love  :  he  is  enamoured  on  Hero  :  I  pray  you,  dissuade  him 
from  her:  she  is  no  equal  for  his  birth.  You  may  do  the 
part  of  an  honest  man  in  it. 

Claudio.   How  know  you  he  loves  her? 

Don  John.  I  heard  him  swear  his  affection.  150 

Borachio.  So  did  I  too ;  and  he  swore  he  would  marry 
her  to-night. 

Don  John.  Come,  let  us  to  the  banquet. 

\Exeunt  Don  John  and  Borachio. 

Claudio.  Thus  answer  I  in  name  of  Benedick, 
But  hear  these  ill  news  with  the  ears  of  Claudio. 
'T  is  certain  so  ;  the  prince  wooes  for  himself. 
Friendship  is  constant  in  all  other  things 
Save  in  the  office  and  affairs  of  love  : 
Therefore  all  hearts  in  love  use  their  own  tongues ; 
Let  every  eye  negotiate  for  itself  160 

And  trust  no  agent ;  for  beauty  is  a  witch 
Against  whose  charms  faith  melteth  into  blood. 
This  is  an  accident  of  hourly  proof, 
Which  I  mistrusted  not.     Farewell,  therefore,  Hero  ! 

Re-enter  BENEDICK. 

Benedick.  Count  Claudio  ? 

Claudio.  Yea,  the  same. 

Benedick.  Come,  will  you  go  with  me  ? 

Claudio.  Whither  ?  ^g 

Benedick.  Even  to  the  next  willow,  about  your  own  busi- 


48  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING.  % 

ness,  county.  What  fashion  will  you  wear  the  garland  of? 
about  your  neck,  like  an  usurer's  chain  ?  or  under  your  arm, 
like  a  lieutenant's  scarf?  You  must  wear  it  one  way,  for 
the  prince  hath  got  your  Hero. 

Claudia.  I  wish  him  joy  of  her. 

Benedick.  Why,  that  's  spoken  like  an  honest  drovier ; 
so  they  sell  bullocks.  But  did  you  think  the  prince  would 
have  served  you  thus  ? 

Claudio.  I  pray  you,  leave  me. 

Benedick.  Ho !  now  you  strike  like  the  blind  man  ;  't  was 
the  boy  that  stole  your  meat,  and  you  '11  beat  the  post.  180 

Claudio.  If  it  will  not  be,  I  '11  leave  you.  \Exit. 

Benedick.  Alas,  poor  hurt  fowl !  now  will  he  creep  into 
sedges.  But  that  my  Lady  Beatrice  should  know  me,  and 
not  know  me !  The  prince's  fool  !  Ha  ?  It  may  be  I  go 
under  that  title  because  I  am  merry.  Yea,  but  so  I  am  apt 
to  do  myself  wrong  ;  I  am  not  so  reputed :  it  is  the  base, 
though  bitter  disposition  of  Beatrice  that  puts  the  world  into 
her  person,  and  so  gives  me  out.  Well,  I  '11  be  revenged 
as  I  may.  i8g 

\ 
Re-enter  DON  PEDRO. 

Don  Pedro.  Now,  signior,  where  's  the  count?  did  you  see 
him  ? 

Benedick.  Troth,  my  lord,  I  have  played  the  part  of  Lady 
Fame.  I  found  him  here  as  melancholy  as  a  lodge  in  a 
warren :  I  told  him,  and  I  think  I  told  him  true,  that  your 
grace  had  got  the  good  will  of  this  young  lady ;  and  I  offered 
him  my  company  to  a  willow-tree,  either  to  make  him  a  gar- 
land, as  being  forsaken,  or  to  bind  him  up  a  rod,  as  being 
worthy  to  be  whipped. 

Don  Pedro.  To  be  whipped  !     What  's  his  fault?  19 j 

Benedick.  The  flat  transgression  of  a  school-boy,  who,  be- 
ing overjoyed  with  finding  a  bird's  nest,  shows  it  his  com- 
panion, and  he  steals  it. 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I.  49 

Don  Pedro.  Wilt  thou  make  a  trust  a  transgression  ?  The 
transgression  is  in  the  stealer. 

Benedick.  Yet  it  had  not  been  amiss  the  rod  had  been 
made,  and  the  garland  too ;  for  the  garland  he  might  have 
worn  himself,  and  the  rod  he  might  have  bestowed  on  you, 
who,  as  I  take  it,  have  stolen  his  bird's  nest. ' 

Don  Pedro.  I  will  but  teach  them  to  sing,  and  restore 
them  to  the  owner.  210 

Benedick.  If  their  singing  answer  your  saying,  by  my  faith, 
you  say  honestly. 

Don  Pedro.  The  Lady  Beatrice  hath  a  quarrel  to  you ; 
the  gentleman  that  danced  with  her  told  her  she  is  much 
wronged  by  you. 

Benedick.  O,  she  misused  me  past  the  endurance  of  a 
block  !  an  oak  but  with  one  green  leaf  on  it  would  have  an- 
swered her ;  my  very  visor  began  to  assume  life  and  scold 
with  her.  She  told  me,  not  thinking  I  had  been  myself, 
that  I  was  the  prince's  jester,  that  I  was  duller  than  a  great 
thaw ;  huddling  jest  upon  jest  with  such  impossible  convey- 
ance upon  me  that  I  stood  like  a  man  at  a  mark,  with  a 
whole  army  shooting  at  me.  She  speaks  poniards,  and  ev- 
ery word  stabs  :  if  her  breath  were  as  terrible  as  her  termi- 
nations, there  were  no  living  near  her ;  she  would  infect  to 
the  north  star.'  I  would  not  marry  her,  though  she  were 
endowed  with  all  that  Adam  had  left  him  before  he  trans- 
gressed j  she  would  have  made  Hercules  have  turned  spit, 
yea,  and  have  cleft  his  club  to  make  the  fire  too.  Come, 
talk  not  of  her;"  you  shall  find  her  the  infernal  Ate  in  good 
apparel.  I  would  to  God  some  scholar  would  conjure  her; 
for  certainly,  while  she  is  here,  a  man  may  live  as  quiet  in 
hell  as  in  a  sanctuary ;  and  people  sin  upon  purpose,  be- 
cause they  would  go  thither:  so,  indeed,  all  disquiet,  hor- 
ror, and  perturbation  follows  her.  235 

Don  Pedro.  Look,  here  she  comes. 

D 


50  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Enter  CLAUDIO,  BEATRICE,  HERO,  and  LEONATO. 

Benedick.  Will  your  grace  command  me  any  service  to  the 
world's  end  ?  I  will  go  on  the  slightest  errand  now  to  the 
Antipodes  that  you  can  devise  to  send  me  on  ;  I  will  fetch 
you  a  toothpicker  now  from  the  furthest  inch  of  Asia,  bring 
you  the  length  of  Prester  John's  foot,  fetch  you  a  hair  off  the 
great  Cham's  beard,  do  you  any  embassage  to  the  Pigmies, 
rather  than  hold  three  words'  conference  with  this  harpy. 
You  have  no  employment  for  me  ?  244 

Don  Pedro.  None,  but  to  desire  your  good  company. 

Benedick.  O  God,  sir,  here  's  a  dish  I  love  not ;  I  cannot 
endure  my  Lady  Tongue.  [Exit. 

Don  Pedro.  Come,  lady,  come ;  you  have  lost  the  heart 
of  Signior  Benedick. 

Beatrice.  Indeed,  my  lord,  he  lent  it  me  awhile ;  and  I 
gave  him  use  for  it,  a  double  heart  for  his  single  one  : 
marry,  once  before  he  won  it  of  me  with  false  dice,  there- 
fore your  grace  may  well  say  I  have  lost  it. 

Don  Pedro.  You  have  put  him  down,  lady,  you  have  put 
him  down.  255 

Beatrice.  So  I  would  not  he  should  do  me,  my  lord.  I 
have  brought  Count  Claudio,  whom  you  sent  me  to  seek. 

Don  Pedro.  Why,  how  now,  count !  wherefore  are  you  sad  ? 

Claudio.  Not  sad,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  How  then  ?  sick  ? 

Claudio.  Neither,  my  lord. 

Beatrice.  The  count  is  neither  sad,  nor  sick,  nor  merry, 
nor  well ;  but  civil  count,  civil  as  an  orange,  and  something 
of  that  jealous  complexion. 

Don  Pedro.  V  faith,  lady,  I  think  your  blazon  to  be  true  ; 
though,  I  '11  be  sworn,  if  he  be  so,  his  conceit  is  false. — Here, 
Claudio,  I  have  wooed  in  thy  name,  and  fair  Hero  is  won  ; 
I  have  broke  with  her  father,  and  his  good  will  obtained  : 
name  the  day  of  marriage,  and  God  give  thee  joy !  269 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 


51 


Leonato.  Count,  take  of  me  my  daughter,  and  with  her 
my  fortunes;  his  grace  hath  made  the  match,  and  all  grace 
say  Amen  to  it ! 

Beatrice.  Speak,  count,  \  is  your  cue. 

Claudio.  Silence  is  the  perfectest  herald  of  joy ;  I  were 
but  little  happy,  if  I  could  say  how  much. — Lady,  as  you 
are  mine,  I  am  yours ;  I  give  away  myself  for  you,  and  dote 
upon  the  exchange. 

Beatrice.  Speak,  cousin  ;  or,  if  you  cannot,  stop  his  mouth 
with  a  kiss,  and  let  not  him  speak  neither. 

Don  Pedro.  In  faith,  lady,  you  have  a  merry  heart.         280 

Beatrice.  Yea,  my  lord  ;  I  thank  it,  poor  fool,  it  keeps  on 
the  windy  side  of  care.  My  cousin  tells  him  in  his  ear  that 
he  is  in  her  heart. 

Claudio.  And  so  she  doth,  cousin. 

Beatrice.  Good  Lord,  for  alliance  ! — Thus  goes  every  one 
to  the  world  but  I,  and  I  am  sunburnt ;  I  may  sit  in  a  cor- 
ner and  cry  heigh-ho  for  a  husband ! 

Don  Pedro.  Lady  Beatrice,  I  will  get  you  one.  288 

Beatrice.  I  would  rather  have  one  of  your  father's  getting. 
Hath  your  grace  ne'er  a  brother  like  yon  ?  Your  father  got 
excellent  husbands,  if  a  maid  could  come  by  them. 

Don  Pedro.  Will  you  have  me,  lady  0? 

Beatrice.  No,  my  lord,  unless  I  might  have  another  for 
working-days  ;  your  grace  is  too  costly  to  wear  every  day. 
But,  I  beseech  your  grace,  pardon  me ;  I  was  born  to  speak 
all  mirth  and  no  matter. 

Don  Pedro.  Your  silence  most  offends  me,  and  to  be  mer- 
ry best  becomes  you ;  for,  out  of  question,  you  were  born  in 
a  merry  hour.  299 

Beatrice.  No,  sure,  my  lord,  my  mother  cried ;  but  then 
there  was  a  star  danced,  and  under  that  was  I  born. — Cous- 
ins, God  give  you  joy  ! 

Leonato.  Niece,  will  you  look  to  those  things  I  told  you  of? 

Beatrice.  I  cry  you  mercy,  uncle. — By  your  grace's  pardon. 

\Exit. 


52  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Don  Pedro.  By  my  troth,  a  pleasant-spirited  lady. 

Leonato.  There  's  little  of  the  melancholy  element  in  her, 
my  lord  :  she  is  never  sad  but  when  she  sleeps,  and  not 
ever  sad  then  ;  for  I  have  heard  my  daughter  say,  she 
hath  often  dreamed  of  unhappiness  and  waked  herself  with 
laughing.  3IO 

Don  Pedro.  She  cannot  endure  to  hear  tell  of  a  husband. 

Leonato.  O,  by  no  means ;  she  mocks  all  her  wooers  out 
of  suit. 

Don  Pedro.  She  were  an  excellent  wife  for  Benedick. 

Leonato.  O  Lord  !  my  lord,  if  they  were  but  a  week  mar- 
ried, they  would  talk  themselves  mad. 

Don  Pedro.  County  Claudio,  when  mean  you  to  go  to 
church  ? 

Claudio.  To-morrow,  my  lord ;  time  goes  on  crutches  till 
love  have  all  his  rites.  320 

Leonato.  Not  till  Monday,  my  dear  son,  which  is  hence 
a  just  seven-night;  and  a  time  too  brief,  too,  to  have  all 
things  answer  my  mind. 

Don  Pedro.  Come,  you  shake  the  head  at  so  long  a  breath- 
ing; but,  I  warrant  thee,  Claudio,  the  time  shall  not  go  dully 
by  us.  I  will  in  the  interim  undertake  one  of  Hercules' 
labours;  which  is,  to  bring  Signior  Benedick  and  the  Lady 
Beatrice  into  a  mountain  of  affection  the  one  with  the  other. 
I  would  fain  have  it  a  match,  and  I  doubt  not  but  to  fashion 
it,  if  you  three  will  but  minister  such  assistance  as  I  shall 
give  you  direction.  331 

Leonato.  My  lord,  I  am  for  you,  though  it  cost  me  ten 
nights'  watch  ings. 

Claudio.  And  I,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  And  you  too,  gentle  Hero? 

Hero.  I  will  do  any  modest  office,  my  lord,  to  help  my 
cousin  to  a  good  husband. 

Don  Pedro.  And  Benedick  is  not  the  unhopefullest  hus- 
band that  I  know.  Thus  far  can  I  praise  him  ;  he  is  of  a 


ACT  II.     SCENE  II.  53 

noble  strain,  of  approved  valour  and  confirmed  honesty.  I 
will  teach  you  how  to  humour  your  cousin,  that  she  shall  fall 
in  love  with  Benedick ;  and  I,  with  your  two  helps,  will  so 
practise  on  Benedick  that,  in  spite  of  his  quick  wit  and  his 
queasy  stomach,  he  shall  fall  in  love  with  Beatrice.  If  we 
can  do  this,  Cupid  is  no  longer  an  archer;  his  glory  shall 
be  ours,  for  we  are  the  only  love-gods.  Go  in  with  me, 
and  I  will  tell  you  my  drift.  \Exeunt. 

S c  EN E  II.     The  Same: 
Enter  DON  JOHN  and  BORACHIO. 

Don  John.  It  is  so ;  the  Count  Claudio  shall  marry  the 
daughter  of  Leonato. 

Borachio.  Yea,  my  lord ;  but  I  can  cross  it. 

Don  John.  Any  bar,  any  cross,  any  impediment  will  be 
medicinable  to  me;  I  am  sick  in  displeasure  to  him,  and 
whatsoever  comes  athwart  his  affection  ranges  evenly  with 
mine.  How  canst  thou  cross  this  marriage? 

Borachio.  Not  honestly,  my  lord ;  but  so  covertly  that  no 
dishonesty  shall  appear  in  me. 

Don  John.  Show  me  briefly  how.  10 

Borachio.  I  think  I  told  your  lordship  a  year  since,  how 
much  I  am  in  the  favour  of  Margaret,  the  waiting-gentle- 
woman to  Hero. 

Don  John.  I  remember. 

Borachio.  lean,  at  any  unseasonable  instant  of  the  night, 
appoint  her  to  look  out  at  her  lady's  chamber-window. 

Don  John.  What  life  is  in  that,  to  be  the  death  of  this 
marriage  ?  18 

Borachio.  The  poison  of  that  lies  in  you  to  temper.  Go 
you  to  the  prince  your  brother;  spare  not  to  tell  him  that  he 
hath  wronged  *his  honour  in  marrying  the  renowned  Claudio 
— whose  estimation  do  you  mightily  hold  up— to  a  contam- 
inated stale,  such  a  one  as  Hero. 


54 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


Don  yohn.  What  proof  shall  I  make  of  that  ? 

Borachio.  Proof  enough  to  misuse  the  prince,  to  vex 
Claudio,  to  undo  Hero,  and  kill  Leonato.  Look  you  for 
any  other  issue  ? 

Don  John.  Only  to  despite  them,  I  will  endeavour  any 
thing.  29 

Borachio.  Go,  then  ;  find  me  a  meet  hour  to  draw  Don 
Pedro  and  Count  Claudio  alone:  tell  them  that  you  know 
that  Hero  loves  me;  intend  a  kind  of  zeal  both  to  the  prince 
and  Claudio,  as — in  love  of  your  brother's  honour,  who  hath 
made  this  match,  and  his  friend's  reputation,  who  is  thus  like 
to  be  cozened  with  the  semblance  of  a  maid — that  you  have 
discovered  thus.  They  will  scarcely  believe  this  without 
trial :  offer  them  instances ;  which  shall  bear  no  less  likeli- 
hood than  to  see  me  at  her  chamber-window,  hear  me  call 
Margaret  Hero,  hear  Margaret  term  me  Claudio ;  and  bring 
them  to  see  this  the  very  night  before  the  intended  wedding, 
— for  in  the  meantime  I  will  so  fashion  the  matter  that  Hero 
shall  be  absent, — and  there  shall  appear  such  seeming  truth 
of  Hero's  disloyalty  that  jealousy  shall  be  called  assurance 
and  all  the  preparation  overthrown.  44 

Don  yohn.  Grow  this  to  what  adverse  issue  it  can,  I  will 
put  it  in  practice.  Be  cunning  in  the  working  this,  and  thy 
fee  is  a  thousand  ducats. 

Borachio.  Be  you  constant  in  the  accusation,  and  my  cun- 
ning shall  not  shame  me.  49 

Don  John.  I  will  presently  go  learn  their  day  of  marriage. 

\Exeunt 

SCENE  III.     Leonato 's  Orchard. 
Enter  BENEDICK. 

Benedick.  Boy ! 

Enter  Boy. 
Boy.  Signior? 


ACT  II.    SCENE  III.  55 

Benedick.  In  my  chamber -window  lies  a  book;  bring  it 
hither  to  me  in  the  orchard. 

Boy.  I  am  here  already,  sir.  5 

Benedick.  I  know  that;  but  I  would  have  thee  hence,  and 
here  again.  [Exit  Boy^\  I  do  much  wonder  that  one  man, 
seeing  how  much  another  man  is  a  fool  when  he  dedicates 
his  behaviours  to  love,  will,  after  he  hath  laughed  at  such 
shallow  follies  in  others,  become  the  argument  of  his  own 
scorn  by  falling  in  love ;  and  such  a  man  is  Claudio.  I 
have  known  when  there  was  no  music  with  him  but  the  drum 
and  the  fife;  and  now  had  he  rather  hear  the  tabor  and  the 
pipe  :  I  have  known  when  he  would  have  walked  ten  mile 
a-foot  to  see  a  good  armour ;  and  now  will  he  lie  ten  nights 
awake,  carving  the  fashion  of  a  new  doublet.  He  was  wont 
to  speak  plain  and  to  the  purpose,  like  an  honest  man  and 
a  soldier ;  and  now  is  he  turned  orthography :  his  words  are 
a  very  fantastical  banquet,  just  so  many  strange  dishes.  May 
I  be  so  converted  and  see  with  these  eyes  ?  I  cannot  tell ; 
I  think  not .  I  will  not  be  sworn  but  love  may  transform  me 
to  an  oyster;  but  I  '11  take  my  oath  on  it,  till  he  have  made 
an  oyster  of  me,  he  shall  never  make  me  such  a  fool.  One 
woman  is  fair,  yet  I  am  well;  another  is  wise,  yet  I  am  well; 
another  virtuous,  yet  I  am  well ;  but  till  all  graces  be  in  one 
woman,  one  woman  shall  not  come  in  my  grace.  Rich  she 
shall  be,  that 's  certain  ;  wise,  or  I  '11  none  ;  virtuous,  or  I  '11 
never  cheapen  her ;  fair,  or  I  '11  never  look  on  her ;  mild,  or 
come  not  near  me ;  noble,  or  not  I  for  an  angel ;  of  good 
discourse,  an  excellent  musician,  and  her  hair  shall  be  of 
what  colour  it  please  God.  Ha !  the  prince  and  Monsieur 
Love  !  I  will  hide  me  in  the  arbour.  [  Withdraws. 


Enter  DON  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  and  LEONATO,  followed  by 

BALTHAZAR  and  Musicians. 
Don  Pedro.  Come.,  shall  we  hear  this  music  ?  33 


56  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Claudio.  Yea,  my  good  Lord.     How  still  the  evening  is, 
As  hush'd  on  purpose  to  grace  harmony ! 

Don  Pedro.  See  you  where  Benedick  hath  hid  himself? 

Claudio.  O,  very  well,  my  lord  ;  the  music  ended, 
We  '11  fit  the  kid-fox  with  a  pennyworth. 

Don  Pedro.  Come,  Balthazar,  we  '11  hear  that  song  again. 

Balthazar.  O,  good  my  lord,  tax  not  so  bad  a  voice  40 
To  slander  music  any  more  than  once. 

Don  Pedro.  It  is  the  witness  still  of  excellency 
To  put  a  strange  face  on  his  own  perfection. 
I  pray  thee,  sing,  and  let  me  woo  no  more. 

Balthazar.  Because  you  talk  of  wooing,  I  will  sing; 
Since  many  a  wooer  doth  commence  his  suit 
To  her  he  thinks  not  worthy ;  yet  he  wooes, 
Yet  will  he  swear  he  loves. 

Don  Pedro.  Now,  pray  thee,  come  ; 

Or,  if  thou  wilt  hold  longer  argument, 
Do  it  in  notes. 

Balthazar.         Note  this  before  my  notes ;  50 

There  's  not  a  note  of  mine  that  's  worth  the  noting. 

Don  Pedro.  Why,  these  are  very  crotchets  that  he  speaks  ; 
Note,  notes,  forsooth,  and  nothing.  [Music. 

Benedick.  Now,  divine  air !  now  is  his  soul  ravished  !  Is 
it  not  strange  that  sheeps'  guts  should  hale  souls  out  of 
men's  bodies?  Well,  a  horn  for  my  money,  when  all 's  clone. 

The  Song. 
Balthazar.  Sigh  no  more,  ladies,  sigh  no  more. 

Men  were  deceivers  ever, 
One  foot  in  sea  and  one  on  shore> 

To  one  thing  constant  never ;  6c 

Then  sigh  not  so,  but  let  them  go, 
And  be  you  blithe  and  bonny, 
Converting  all  your  sounds  of  woe 
Into  Hey  nonny,  nonny. 


ACT  II.    SCENE  II L  57 

Sing  no  more  ditties,  sing  no  moe, 

Of  dumps  so  dull  and  heavy  ; 
The.  fraud  of  men  was  ever  so. 

Since  summer  first  was  leavy : 
Then  sigh  not  so,  etc. 

Don  Pedro.  By  my  troth,  a  good  song.  70 

Balthazar.  And  an  ill  singer,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  Ha,  no,  no,  faith;  thou  singest  well  enough 
for  a  shift. 

Benedick.  An  he  had  been  a  dog  that  should  have  howled 
thus,  they  would  have  hanged  him  ;  and  I  pray  God  his  bad 
voice  bode  no  mischief!  I  had  as  lief  have  heard  the  night- 
raven,  come  what  plague  could  have  come  after  it. 

Don  Pedro.  Yea,  marry,  dost  thou  hear,  Balthazar  ?  I 
pray  thee,  get  us  some  excellent  music ;  for  to-morrow  night 
we  would  have  it  at  the  Lady  Hero's  chamber-window.  80 

Balthazar.  The  best  I  can,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  Do  so ;  farewell.  \Exit  Balthazar.~\  Come 
hither,  Leonato.  What  was  it  you  told  me  of  to-day,  that 
your  niece  Beatrice  was  in  love  with  Signior  Benedick? 

Claudio.  O,  ay :  stalk-  on,  stalk  on ;  the  fowl  sits. — I  did 
never  think  that  lady  would  have  loved  any  man. 

Leonato.  No,  nor  I  neither ;  but  most  wonderful  that  she 
should  so  dote  on  Signior  Benedick,  whom  she  hath  in  all 
outward  behaviours  seemed  ever  to  abhor.  89 

Benedick.  Is  't  possible?     Sits  the  wind  in  that  corner? 

Leonato.  By  my  troth,  my  lord,  I  cannot  tell  what  to  think 
of  it  but  that  she  loves  him  with  an  enraged  affection :  it  is 
past  the  infinite  of  thought. 

Don  Pedro.  May  be  she  doth  but  counterfeit. 

Claudio.  Faith,  like  enough. 

Leonato.  O  God,  counterfeit !  There  was  never  counter- 
feit of  passion  came  so  near  the  life  of  passion  as  she  dis- 
covers it. 

Don  Pedro.  Why,  what  effects  of  passion  shows  she  ? 


58  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Claudio.  Bait  the  hook  well ;  this  fish  will  bite.  too 

Leonato.  What  effects,  my  lord  ?  She  will  sit  you,  you 
heard  my  daughter  tell  you  how. 

Claudio.  She  did,  indeed. 

Don  Pedro.  How,  how,  I  pray  you  ?  You  amaze  me  ;  I 
would  have  thought  her  spirit  had  been  invincible  against 
all  assaults  of  affection. 

Leonato.  I  would  have  sworn  it  had,  my  lord ;  especially 
against  Benedick. 

Benedick.  I  should  think  this  a  gull,  but  that  the  white- 
bearded  fellow  speaks  it;  knavery  cannot,  sure,  hide  him- 
self in  such  reverence.  m 

Claudio.  He  hath  ta'en  the  infection  ;  hold  it  up. 

Don  Pedro.  Hath  she  made  her  affection  known  to  Bene- 
dick? 

Leonato.  No,  and  swears  she  never  will;  that  's  her  tor- 
ment. 

Claudio.  'T  is  true,  indeed  ;  so  your  daughter  says  :  '  Shall 
I,;  says  she,  '  that  have  so  oft  encountered  him  with  scorn, 
write  to  him  that  I  love  him  ?'  nq 

Leonato.  This  says  she  now  when  she  is  beginning  to 
write  to  him  ;  for  she  '11  be  up  twenty  times  a  night,  and 
there  will  she  sit  in  her  smock  till  she  have  writ  a  sheet 
of  paper :  my  daughter  tells  us  all. 

Claudio.  Now  you  talk  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  I  remember  a 
pretty  jest  your  daughter  told  us  of. 

Leonato.  O,  when  she  had  writ  it  and  was  reading  it  over, 
she  found  Benedick  and  Beatrice  "between  the  sheet  ? 

Claudio.  That.  128 

Leonato.  O,  she  tore  the  letter  into  a  thousand  halfpence  ; 
railed  at  herself,  that  she  should  be  so  immodest  to  write  to 
one  that  she  knew  would  flout  her :  *  I  measure  him,'  says 
she,  'by  my  own  spirit :  for  I  should  flout  him,  if  he  writ  to 
me  ;  yea,  though  I  love  him,  I  should.' 

Claudio.  Then   down   upon    her   knees    she   falls,  weeps, 


ACT  II.    SCENE  III. 


59 


sobs,  beats  her  heart,  tears  her  hair,  prays,  cries,  f  O  sweet 
Benedick  !     God  give  me  patience  !' 

Leonato.  She  doth  indeed  ;  my  daughter  says  so :  and  the 
ecstasy  hath  so  much  overborne  her  that  my  daughter  is- 
sometime  afeard  she  will  do  a  desperate  outrage  to  herself; 
it  is  very  true.  14° 

Don  Pedro.  It  were  good  that  Benedick  knew  of  it  by 
some  other,  if  she  will  not  discover  it. 

Claudia.  To  what  end?  He  would  but  make  a  sport  of 
it  and.  torment  the  poor  lady  worse. 

Don  Pedro.  An  he  should,  it  were  an  alms  to  hang  him. 
She  's  an  excellent  sweet  lady ;  and,  out  of  all  suspicion, 
she  is  virtuous. 

Claudio.  And  she  is  exceeding  wise. 

Don  Pedro.  In  every  thing  but  in  loving  Benedick.          149 

Leonato.  O,  my  lord,  wisdom  and  blood  combating  in  so 
tender  a  body,  we  have  ten  proofs  to  one  that  blood  hath 
the  victory.  I  am  sorry  for  her,  as  I  have  just  cause,  being 
her  uncle  and  her  guardian. 

Don  Pedro.  I  would  she  had  bestowed  this  dotage  on  me  -, 
I  would  have  daffed  all  other  respects  and  made  her  half 
myself.  I  pray  you,  tell  Benedick  of  it,  and  hear  what  he 
will  say. 

Leonato.  Were  it  good,  think  you  ? 

Claudio.  Hero  thinks  surely  she  will  die  ;  for  she  says  she 
will  die  if  he  love  her  not,  and  she  will  die  ere  she  make  her 
love  known,  and  she  will  die,  if  he  woo  her,  rather  than  she 
will  bate  one  breath  of  her  accustomed  crossness.  162 

Don  Pedro.  She  doth  well :  if  she  should  make  tender  of 
her  love,  't  is  very  possible  he  '11  scorn  it ;  for  the  man,  as 
you  know  all,  hath  a  contemptible  spirit. 

Claudio.  He  is  a  very  proper  man. 

Don  Pedro.  He  hath  indeed  a  good  outward  happi- 
ness. 

Claudio.  Fore  God,  and,  in  my  mind,  very  wise. 


60  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Don  Pedro.  He  doth  indeed  show  some  sparks  that  are 
like  wit.  171 

Claudio.  And  I  take  him  to  be  valiant. 

Don  Pedro.  As  Hector,  I  assure  you :  and  in  the  man- 
aging of  quarrels  you  may  say  he  is  wise  j  for  either  he 
avoids  them  with  great  discretion,  or  undertakes  them  with 
a  most  Christian-like  fear. 

Leonato.  If  he  do  fear  God,  he  must  necessarily  keep 
peace ;  if  he  break  the  peace,  he  ought  to  enter  into  a 
quarrel  with  fear  and  trembling. 

Don  Pedro.  And  so  will  he  do ;  for  the  man  doth  fear 
God,  howsoever  it  seems  not  in  him  by  some  large  jests  he 
will  make.  Well,  I  am  sorry  for  your  niece.  Shall  we  go 
seek  Benedick,  and  tell  him  of  her  love  ?  183 

Claudio.  Never  tell  him,  my  lord  ;  let  her  wear  it  out  with 
good  counsel. 

Leonato.  Nay,  that  's  impossible  ;  she  may  wear  her  heart 
out  first. 

Don  Pedro.  Well,  we  will  hear  further  of  it  by  your  daugh- 
ter ;  let  it  cool  the  while.  I  love  Benedick  well ;  and  I 
could  wish  he  would  modestly  examine  himself,  to  see  how 
much  he  is  unworthy  so  good  a  lady.  191 

Leonato.  My  lord,  will  you  walk?,  dinner  is  ready. 

Claudio.  If  he  do  not  dote  on  her  upon  this,  I  will  never 
trust  my  expectation. 

Don  Pedro.  Let  there  be  the  same  net  spread  for  her ;  and 
that  must  your  daughter  and  her  gentlewoman  carry.  The 
sport  will  be,  when  they  hold  one  an  opinion  of  another's 
dotage,  and  no  such  matter ;  that  's  the  scene  that  I  would 
see,  which  will  be  merely  a  dumb-show.  Let  us  send  her 
to  call  him  in  to  dinner.  200 

\Exeunt  Don  Pedro,  Claudio,  and  Leonato. 

Benedick.  \Coming  forward}  This  can  be  no  trick ;  the 
conference  was  sadly  borne.  They  have  the  truth  of  this 
from  Hero.  They  seem  to  pity  the  lady ;  it  seems  her  affec- 


ACT  II.     SCENE  III.  6 1 

tions  have  their  full  bent.  Love  me  !  why,  it  must  be  re- 
quited. I  hear  how  I  am  censured  :  they  say  I  will  bear 
myself  proudly,  if  I  perceive  the  love  come  from  her ;  they 
say  too  that  she  will  rather  die  than  give  any  sign  of  affec- 
tion. I  did  never  think  to  marry :  I  must  not  seem  proud ; 
happy  are  they  that  hear  their  detractions  and  can  put  them 
to  mending.  They  say  the  lady  is  fair ;  't  is  a  truth,  I  can 
bear  them  witness  :  and  virtuous ;  't  is  so,  I  cannot  reprove 
it :  and  wise,  but  for  loving  me ;  by  my  troth,  it  is  no  addi- 
tion to  her  wit,  nor  no  great  argument  of  her  folly,  for  I-  will 
be  horribly  in  love  with  her.  I  may  chance  have  some  odd 
quirks  and  remnants  of  wit  broken  on  me,  because  I  have 
railed  so  long  against  marriage  ;  but  doth  not  the  appetite 
alter?  a  man  loves  the  meat  in  his  youth  that  he  cannot  en- 
dure in  his  age.  Shall  quips  and  sentences  and  these  paper 
bullets  of  the  brain  awe  a  man  from  the  career  of  his  hu- 
mour? No,  the  world  must  be  peopled.  When  I  said  I 
would  die  a  bachelor,  I  did  not  think  I  should  live  till  I 
were  married. — Here  comes  Beatrice.  By  this  day,  she  's 
a  fair  lady  ;  I  do  spy  some  marks  of  love  in  her.  223 

Enter  BEATRICE. 

Beatrice.  Against  my  will  I  am  sent  to  bid  you  come  in  to 
dinner. 

Benedick.  Fair  Beatrice,  I  thank  you  for  your  pains. 

Beatrice.  I  took  no  more  pains  for  those  thanks  than  you 
take  pains  to  thank  me ;  if  it  had  be.en  painful,  I  would  not 
have  come. 

Benedick.  You  take  pleasure  then  in  the  message  ?          230 

Beatrice.  Yea,  just  so  much  as  you  may  take  upon  a  knife's 
point  and  choke  a  daw  withal. — You  have  no  stomach,  sign- 
ior  ;  fare  you  well.  [Exit. 

Benedick.  Ha!  '  Against  my  will  I  am  sent  to  bid  you 
come  in  to  dinner;'  there  's  a  double  meaning  in  that.  '1 
took  no  more  pains  for  those  thanks  than  you  took  pains  to 


62 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


thank  me ;'  that  's  as  much  as  to  say,  Any  pains  that  I  take 
for  you  is  as  easy  as  thanks.  If  I  do  not  take  pity  of  her,  I 
am  a  villain  ;  if  I  do  not  love  her,  I  am  a  Jew.  I  will  go 
get  her  picture.  [Exit. 


"haggards  of  the  rock"  (iii.  i.  36). 


ACT  III. 

SCENE  I.     LeonatJs  Orchard. 
Enter  HERO,  MARGARET,  and  URSULA. 

Hero.  Good  Margaret,  run  thee  to  the  parlour ; 
There  shalt  thou  find  my  cousin  Beatrice 
Proposing  with  the  prince  and  Claudio  : 
Whisper  her  ear  and  tell  her,  I  and  Ursula 


64  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Walk  in  the  orchard  and  our  whole  discourse 

Is  all  of  her  ;  say  that  thou  overheard'st  us  ; 

And  bid  her  steal  into  the  pleached  bower, 

Where  honeysuckles,  ripen'd  by  the  sun, 

Forbid  the  sun  to  enter,  like  favourites, 

Made  proud  by  princes,  that  advance  their  pride  10 

Against  that  power  that  bred  it :  there  will  she  hide  her, 

To  listen  our  propose.     This  is  thy  office  ; 

Bear  thee  well  in  it,  and  leave  us  alone. 

Margaret.   I  '11  make  her  come,  I  warrant  you,  presently. 

[Exit. 
Hero.  Now,  Ursula,  when  Beatrice  doth  come, 

As  we  do  trace  this  alley  up  and  down, 

Our  talk  must  only  be  of  Benedick. 

When  I  do  nanfe  him,  let  it  be  thy  part 

To  praise  him  more  than  ever  man  did  merit ; 

My  talk  to  thee  must  be  how  Benedick  20 

,  Is  sick  in  love  with  Beatrice,     Of  this  matter 
jlsjittle  Cupid's  crafty  arrow  made, 
vThat  only  wounds  by  hearsay. 

Enter  BEATRICE,  behind. 

Now  begin ; 

For  look  where  Beatrice,  like  a  lapwing,  runs 
Close  by  the  ground,  to  hear  our  conference. 

Ursula.  The  pleasant'st  angling  is  to  see  the  fish 
Cut  with  her  golden  oars  the  silver  stream, 
And  greedily  devour  the  treacherous  bait ; 
So  angle  we  for  Beatrice,  who  even  now 
Is  couched  in  the  woodbine  coverture.  30 

Fear  you  not  rny  part  of  the  dialogue. 

Hero.  Then  go  we  near  her,  that  her  ear  lose  nothing 
Of  the  false  sweet  bait  that  we  lay  for  it. 

[Approaching  the  bower. 
No,  truly,  Ursula,  she  is  too  disdainful ; 


ACT  III.    SCENE  /.  65 

I  know  her  spirits  are  as  coy  and  wild 
As  haggards  of  the  rock. 

Ursula.  But  are  you  sure 

That  Benedick  loves  Beatrice  so  entirely? 

Hero.  So  says  the  prince  and  my  new-trothed  lord. 

Ursula.  And  did  they  bid  you  tell  her  of  it,  madam  ? 

Hero.  They  did  entreat  me  to  acquaint  her  of  it ;  40 

But  I  persuaded  them,  if  they  lov'd  Benedick, 
To  wish  him  wrestle  with  affection, 
And  never  to  let  Beatrice  know  of  it. 

Ursula.  Why  did  you  so  ?     Doth  not  the  gentleman 
Deserve  as  full  as  fortunate  a  bed 
As  ever  Beatrice  shall  couch  upon  ? 

Hero.  O  god  of  love  !  I  know  he  doth  deserve 
As  much  as  may  be  yielded  to  a  man : 
But  Nature  never  fram'd  a  woman's  heart 
Of  prouder  stuff  than  that  of  Beatrice  ;  50 

Disdain  and  scorn  ride  sparkling  in  her  eyes, 
Misprising  what  they  look  on,  and  her  wit 
Values  itself  so  highly  that  to  her 
All  matter  else  seems  weak  :  she  cannot  love, 
Nor  take  no  shape  nor  project  of  affection, 
She  is  so  self-endeared. 

Ursula.  Sure,  I  think  so  ; 

And  therefore  certainly  it  were  not  good 
She  knew  his  love,  lest  she  make  sport  at  it. 

Hero.  Why,  you  speak  truth.     I  never  yet  saw  man, 
How  wise,  how  noble,  young,  how  rarely  featur'd,  60 

But  she  would  spell  him  backward :  if  fair-fac'd, 
She  would  swear  the  gentleman  should  be  her  sister; 
If  black,  why,  Nature,  drawing  of  an  antic, 
Made  a  foul  blot ;  if  tall,  a  lance  ill-headed  ; 
If  low,  an  agate  very  vilely  cut ; 
If  speaking,  why,  a  vane  blown  with  all  winds; 
If  silent,  why,  a  block  moved  with  none. 

E 


66  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

So  turns  she  every  man  the  wrong  side  out, 

And  never  gives  to  truth  and  virtue  that 

Which  simpleness  and  merit  purchaseth.  7o 

Ursula.  Sure,  sure,  such  carping  is  not  commendable. 

Hero.   No,  not  to  be  so  odd  and  from  all  fashions 
As  Beatrice  is,  cannot  be  commendable; 
But  who  dare  tell  her  so  ?     If  I  should  speak, 
She  would  mock  me  into  air;  O,  she  would  laugh  me 
Out  of  myself,  press  me  to  death  with  wit. 
Therefore  let  Benedick,  like  cover'd  fire, 
Consume  away  in  sighs,  waste  inwardly ; 
It  were  a  better  death  than  die  with  mocks, 
Which  is  as  bad  as  die  with  tickling.  80 

Ursula.  Yet  tell  her  of  it ;  hear  what  she  will  say. 

Hero.  No;  rather  I  will  go  to  Benedick 
And  counsel  him  to  fight  against  his  passion. 
And,  truly,  I  '11  devise  some  honest  slanders 
To  stain  my  cousin  with;  one  doth  not  know 
How  much  an  ill  word  may  empoison  liking. 

Ursula.  O,  do  not  do  your  cousin  such  a  wrong. 
She  cannot  be  so  much  without  true  judgment — 
Having  so  swift  and  excellent  a  wit 

As  she  is  priz'd  to  have — as  to  refuse  gc 

So  rare  a  gentleman  as  Signior  Benedick. 

Hero.  He  is  the  only  man  of  Italy, 
Always  excepted  my  dear  Claudio. 

Ursula.  I  pray  you,  be  not  angry  with  me,  madam, 
Speaking  my  fancy;  Signior  Benedick, 
For  shape,  for  bearing,  argument,  and  valour, 
Goes  foremost  in  report  through  Italy. 

Hero.  Indeed,  he  hath  an  excellent  good  name. 

Ursula.  His  excellence  did  earn  it,  ere  he  had  it. 
When  are  you  married,  madam  ?  ioc 

Hero.  Why,  every  day,  to-morrow.     Come,  go  in; 
I  '11  show  thee  some  attires,  and  have  thy  counsel 
Which  is  the  best  to  furnish  me  to-morrow. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  II.  67 

Ursula.  She  's  lim'd,  I  warrant  you;  we  have  caught  her, 
madam. 

Hero.  If  it  proves  so,  then  loving  goes  by  haps ;  //// 
Some  Cupid  kills  with  arrows,  some  with  traps.      //$'?' 

\Exeunt  Hero  and  Ursula. 

Beatrice.   \Coming  forward}  What  fire  is  in   mine   ears? 
Can  this  be  true  ? 

Stand  I  condemn'd  for  pride  and  scorn  so  much  ? 
Contempt,  farewell !  and  maiden  pride,  adieu  ! 

No  glory  lives  behind  the  back  of  such.  no 

And,  Benedick,  love  on;  I  will  requite  thee, 

Taming  my  wild  heart  to  thy  loving  hand : 
If  thou  dost  love,  my  kiridness  shall  incite  thee 

To  bind  our  loves  up  in  a  holy  band ; 
For  others  say  thou  dost  deserve,  and  I 
Believe  it  better  than  reportingly.  \Exitl 

SCENE  II.     A  Room  in  Leonattfs  House. 
Enter  DON  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  BENEDICK,  and  LEONATO. 

Don  Pedro.  I  do  but  stay  till  your  marriage  be  consum- 
mate, and  then  go  I  toward  Arragon. 

Claudia.  I  '11  bring  you  thither,  my  lord,  if  you  '11  vouch- 
safe me. 

Don  Pedro.  Nay,  that  would  be  as  great  a  soil  in  the  new 
gloss  of  your  marriage  as  to  show  a  child  his  new  coat  and 
forbid  him  to  wear  it.  I  will  only  be  bold  with  Benedick  for 
his  company ;  for,  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of 
his  foot,  he  is  all  mirth :  he  hath  twice  or  thrice  cut  Cupid's 
bow-string,  and  the  little  hangman  dare  not  shoot  at  him. 
He  hath  a  heart  as  sound  as  a  bell  and  his  tongue  is  the 
clapper,  for  what  his  heart  thinks  his  tongue  speaks.  12 

Benedick.  Gallants,  I  am  not  as  I  have  been. 

Leonato.  So  say  I ;  methinks  you  are  sadder. 

Claudio.  I  hope  he  be  in  love. 


68  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Don  Pedro.  Hang  him,  truant !  there  's  no  true  drop  of 
blood  in  him,  to  be  truly  touched  with  love;  if  he  be  sad, 
he  wants  money. 

Benedick.   I  have  the  toothache. 

Don  Pedro.  Draw  it.  20 

Benedick.  Hang  it ! 

Claudio.  You  must  hang  it  first,  and  draw  it  afterwards. 

Don  Pedro.  What !  sigh  for  the  toothache  ? 

Leonato.  Where  is  but  a  humour  or  a  worm  ? 

Benedick.  Well,  every  one  can  master  a  grief  but  he  that 
has  it. 

Claudio.  Yet  say  I,  he  is  in  love.  27 

Don  Pedro.  There  is  no  appearance  of  fancy  in  him,  unless 
it  be  a  fancy  that  he  hath  to  strange  disguises;  as  to  be  a 
Dutchman  to-day,  a  Frenchman  to-morrow,  or  in  the  shape 
of  two  countries  at  once,  as  a  German  from  the  waist  down- 
ward, all  slops,  and  a  Spaniard  from  the  hip  upward,  no 
doublet.  Unless  he  have  a  fancy  to  this  foolery,  as  it  ap- 
pears he  hath,  he  is  no  fool  for  fancy,  as  you  would  have  it 
appear  he  is. 

Claudio.  If  he  be  not  in  love  with  some  woman,  there  is 
no  believing  old  signs :  he  brushes  his  hat  o'  mornings;  what 
should  that  bode  ? 

Don  Pedro.  Hath  any  man  seen' him  at  the  barber's?      39 

Claudio.  No,  but  the  barber's  man  hath  been  seen  with 
him,  and  the  old  ornament  of  his  cheek  hath  already  stuffed 
tennis-balls. 

Leonato.  Indeed,  he  looks  younger  than  he  did,  by  the  loss 
of  a  beard. 

Don  Pedro.  Nay,  he  rubs  himself  with  civet;  can  you  smell 
him  out  by  that  ? 

Claudio.  That  's  as  much  as  to  say,  the  sweet  youth  's  in 
love. 

Don  Pedro.  The  greatest  note  of  it  is  his  melancholy. 

Claudio.   And  when  was  he  wont  to  wash  his  face?  5° 


ACT  III.     SCENE  //.  69 

Don  Pedro.  Yea,  or  to  paint  himself?  for  the  which,  I 
hear  what  they  say  of  him. 

Claudia.  Nay,  but  his  jesting  spirit,  which  is  now  crept 
into  a  lute-string  and  now  governed  by  stops. 

Don  Pedro.  Indeed,  that  tells  a  heavy  tale  for  him;  con- 
clude, conclude  he  is  in  love. 

Claudio.  Nay,  but  I  know  who  loves  him. 

Don  Pedro.  That  would  I  know  too;  I  warrant,  one  that 
knows  him  not. 

Claudio.  Yes,  and  his  ill  conditions;  and,  in  despite  of 
all,  dies  for  him.  61 

Don  Pedro.  She  shall  be  buried  with  her  face  upwards. 

Benedick.  Yet  is  this  no  charm  for  the  toothache. — Old 
signior,  walk  aside  with  me;  I  have  studied  eight  or  nine 
wise  words  to  speak  to  you,  which  these  hobby-horses  must 
not  hear.  \Exeunt  Benedick  and  Leonato. 

Don  Pedro.  For  my  life,  to  break  with  him  about  Beatrice. 

Claudio.  T  is  even  so.  Hero  and  Margaret  have  by  this 
played  their  parts  with  Beatrice;  and  then  the  two  bears  will 
not  bite  one  another  when  they  meet.  70 

Enter  DON  JOHN. 

Don  John.  My  lord  and  brother,  God  save  you  ! 

Don  Pedro.  Good  den,  brother. 

Don  John.  If  your  leisure  served,  I  would  speak  with  you. 

Don  Pedro.  In  private  ? 

Don  John.  If  it  please  you  :  yet  Count  Claudio  may  hear; 
for  what  I  would  speak  of  concerns  him. 

Don  Pedro.  What  's  the  matter? 

Don  John.  \To  Claudio]  Means  your  lordship  to  be  mar- 
ried to-morrow  ? 

Don  Pedro.  You  know  he  does.  80 

Don  John.  I  know  not  that,  when  he  knows  what  I  know. 

Claudio.  If  there  be  any  impediment,  I  pray  you  discover  it, 

Don  John.  You  may  think  I  love  you  not;  let  that  ap- 


7o  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

pear  hereafter,  and. aim  better  at  me  by  that  I  now  will 
manifest.  For  my  brother,  I  think  he  holds  you  well,  and 
in  dearness  of  heart  hath  holp  to  effect  your  ensuing  mar- 
riage,— surely  suit  ill  spent  and  labour  ill  bestowed. 

Don  Pedro.  Why,  what  's  the  matter  ? 

Don  John.  I  came  hither  to  tell  you ;  and,  circumstances 
shortened,  for  she  has  been  too  long  a  talking  of,  the  lady 
is  disloyal.  9i 

Claudio.  Who?  Hero? 

Don  John.  Even  she;  Leonato's  Hero,  your  Hero,  every 
man's  Hero. 

Claudio.  Disloyal  ? 

Don  John.  The  word  is  too  good  to  paint  out  her  wicked- 
ness; I  could  say  she  were  worse:  think  you  of  a  worse 
title,  and  I  will  fit  her  to  it.  Wonder  not  till  further  war- 
rant; go  but  with  me  to-night,  you  shall  see  her  chamber- 
window  entered,  even  the  night  before  her  wedding-day:  if 
you  love  her  then,  to-morrow  wed  her;  but  it  would  better 
fit  your  honour  to  change  your  mind.  102 

Claudio.  May  this  be  so  ? 

Don  Pedro.   I  will  not  think  it. 

Don  John.  If  you  dare  not  trust  that  you  see,  confess 
not  that  you  know :  if  you  will  follow  me,  I  will  show 
you  enough ;  and  when  you  have  seen  more  and  heard 
more,  proceed  accordingly. 

Claudio.  If  I  see  any  thing  to-night  why  I  should  not 
marry  her  to-morrow,  in  the  congregation,  where  I  should 
wed,  there  will  I  shame  her.  m 

Don  Pedro.  And,  as  I  wooed  for  thee  to  obtain  her,  I  will 
join  with  thee  to  disgrace  her. 

Don  John.  I  will  disparage  her  no  farther  till  you  are 
my  witnesses  ;  bear  it  coldly  but  till  midnight,  and  let  the 
issue  show  itself. 

Don  Pedro.  O  day  untowardly  turned  ! 

Claudio.  O  mischief  strangely  thwarting  !  us 


ACT  III.     SCEATE   III.  71 

Don  John.  O  plague  right  well  prevented  !  so  will  you 
say  when  you  have  seen  .the  sequel.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  III.     A  Street. 
Enter  DOGBERRY  and  VERGES  with  the  Watch. 

Dogberry.  Are  you  good  men  and  true  ? 

Verges.  Yea,  or  else  it  were  pity  but  they  should  suffer 
salvation,  body  and  soul. 

Dogberry.  Nay,  that  were  a  punishment  too  good  for 
them,  if  they  should  have  any  allegiance  in  them,  being 
chosen  for  the  prince's  watch. 

Verges.  Well,  give  them  their  charge,  neighbour  Dogberry. 

Dogberry.  First,  who  think  you  the  most  desartless  man 
to  be  constable  ? 

1  Watch.  Hugh  Oatcake,  sir,  or  George  Seacole ;  for  they 
can  write  and  read.  " 

Dogberry.  Come  hither,  neighbour  Seacole.  God  hath 
blessed  you  with  a  good  name;  to  be  a  well-favoured  man 
is  the  gift  of  fortune,  but  to  write  and  read  comes  by  nature. 

2  Watch.  Both  which,  master  constable, — 

Dogberry.  You  have ;  I  knew  it  would  be  your  answer. 
Well,  for  your  favour,  sir,  why,  give  God  thanks,  and  make 
no  boast  of  it ;  and  for  your  writing  and  reading,  let  that 
appear  when  there  is  no  need  of  such  vanity.  You  are 
thought  here  to  be  the  most  senseless  and  fit  man  for  the 
constable  of  the  watch  ;  therefore  bear  you  the  lantern. 
This  is  your'  charge :  you  shall  comprehend  all  vagrom 
men  ;  you  are  to  bid  any  man  stand,  in  the  prince's  name. 

2  Watch.  How  if  a'  will  not  stand  ?  24 

Dogberry.  Why,  then,  take  no  note  of  him,  but  let  him 
go;  and  presently  call  the  rest  of  the  watch  together  and 
thank  God  you  are  rid  of  a  knave. 

Verges.  If  he  will  not  stand  when  he  is  bidden,  he  is  none 
of  the  prince's  subjects. 


72         MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Dogberry.  True,  and  they  are  to  meddle  with  none  but 
the  prince's  subjects. — You  shall  also  make  no  noise  in  the 
streets ;  for  for  the  watch  to  babble  and  to  talk  is  most 
tolerable  and  not  to  be  endured.  33 

Watch.  We  will  rather  sleep  than  talk;  we  know  what 
belongs  to  a  watch. 

Dogberry.  Why,  you  speak  like  an  ancient  and  most  quiet 
watchman ;  for  I  cannot  see  how  sleeping  should  offend : 
only,  have  a  care  that  your  bills  be  not  stolen.  Well,  you 
are  to  call  at  all  the  ale-houses,  and  bid  them  that  are  drunk 
get  them  to  bed.  4o 

Watch.  How  if  they  will  not  ? 

Dogberry.  Why,  then,  let  them  alone  till  they  are  sober; 
if  they  make  you  not  then  the  better  answer,  you  may  say 
they  are  not  the  men  you  took  them  for. 

Watch.  Well,  sir. 

Dogberry.  If  you  meet  a  thief,  you  may  suspect  him,  by 
virtue  of  your  office,  to  be  no  true  man ;  and,  for  such  kind 
of -men,  the  less  you  meddle  or  make  with  them,  why,  the 
more  is  for  your  honesty. 

Wafch.  If  we  know  him  to  be  a  thief,  shall  we  not  lay 
hands  on  him  ?  51 

Dogberry.  Truly,  by  your  office,  you  may;  but  I  think 
they  that  touch  pitch  will  be  defiled  :  the  most  peaceable 
way  for  you,  if  you  do  take  a  thief,  is  to  let  him  show  him- 
self what  he  is  and  steal  out  of  your  company. 

Verges.  You  have  been  always  called  a  merciful  man, 
partner. 

Dogberry.  Truly,  I  would  not  hang  a  dog  by  my  will, 
much  more  a  man  who  hath  any  honesty  in  him. 

Verges.  If  you  hear  a  child  cry  in  the  night,  you  must 
call  to  the  nurse  and  bid  her  still  it.  61 

Watch.  How  if  the  nurse  be  asleep  and  will  not  hear 
us? 

Dogberry.  Why,  then,  depart  in  peace,  and  let  the  child 


ACT  III.     SCENE  III. 


73 


wake  her  with  crying;  for  the  ewe  that  will  not  hear  her 
lamb  when  it  baes  will  never  answer  a  calf  when  he  bleats. 

Verges.  'T  is  very  true. 

Dogberry.  This  is  the  end  of  the  charge :  you,  consta- 
ble, are  to  present  the  prince's  own  person ;  if  you  meet 
the  prince  in  the  night,  you  may  stay  him.  7o 

Verges.  Nay,  by  'r  lady,  that  I  think  a'  cannot. 

Dogberry.  Five  shillings  to  one  on  't,  with  any  man  that 
knows  the  statues,  he  may  stay  him  :  marry,  not  without  the 
prince  be  willing ;  for,  indeed,  the  watch  ought  to  offend  no 
man,  and  it  is  an  offence  to  stay  a  man  against  his  will. 

Verges.  By  'r  lady,  I  think  it  be  so. 

Dogberry.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Well,  masters,  good  night.  An 
there  be  any  matter  of  weight  chances,  call  up  me  :  keep 
your  fellows'  counsels  and  your  own ;  and  good  night. 
Come,  neighbour.  80 

Watch.  Well,  masters,  we  hear  our  charge ;  let  us  go  sit 
here  upon  the  church-bench  till  two,  and  then  all  to  bed. 

Dogberry.  One  word  more,  honest  neighbours.  I  pray 
you,  watch  about  Signior  Leonato's  door ;  for  the  wedding 
being  there  to-morrow,  there  is  a  great  coil  to-night.  Adieu ; 
be  vigitant,  I  beseech  you.  [Exeunt  Dogberry  and  Verges. 

Enter  BORACHIO  and  CONRADE. 

Borachio.  What,  Conrade  ! 

Watch.  [Aside]  Peace  !  stir  not. 

Borachio.  Conrade,  I  say  ! 

Conrade.  Here,  man  ;  I  am  at  thy  elbow.  90 

Borachio.  Mass,  and  my  elbow  itched ;  I  thought  there 
would  a  scab  follow. 

Conrade.  I  will  owe  thee  an  answer  for  that ;  and  now 
forward  with  thy  tale. 

Borachio.  Stand  thee  close,  then,  under  this  pent-house, 
for  it  drizzles  rain  ;  and  I  will,  like  a  true  drunkard,  utter 
all  to  thee. 


74 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


Watch.  [Aside]  Some  treason,  masters  ;  yet  stand  close. 

Borachio.  Therefore  know  I  have  earned  of  Don  John  a 
thousand  ducats.  100 

Conrade.  Is  it  possible  that  any  villany  should  be  so  dear? 

Borachio.  Thou  shouldst  rather  ask  if  it  were  possible  any 
villany  should  be  so  rich ;  for  when  rich  villains  have  need 
of  poor  ones,  poor  ones  may  make  what  price  they  will. 

Conrade.  I  wonder  at  it. 

Borachio.  That  shows  thou  art  unconfirmed.  Thou  know- 
est  that  the  fashion  of  a  doublet,  or  a  hat,  or  a  cloak,  is  noth- 
ing to  a  man. 

Conrade.  Yes,  it  is  apparel. 

Borachio.  I  mean,  the  fashion.  no 

Conrade.  Yes,  the  fashion  is  the  fashion. 

Borachio.  Tush  !  I  may  as  well  say  the  fool  's  the  fool. 
But  seest  thou  not  what  a  deformed  thief  this  fashion  is? 

Watch.  \Aside~\  I  know  that  Deformed ;  a'  has  been  a 
vile  thief  this  seven  year :  a'  goes  up  and  down  like  a  gen- 
tleman. I  remember  his  name. 

Borachio.   Didst  thou  not  hear  somebody  ? 

Conrade.  No  ;  't  was  the  vane  on  the  house.  n8 

Borachio.  Seest  thou  not,  I  say,  what  a  deformed  thief  this 
fashion  is  ?  how  giddily  a'  turns  at>out  all  the  hot  bloods 
between  fourteen  and  five-and-thirty  ?  sometime  fashioning 
them  like  Pharaoh's  soldiers  in  the  reechy  painting,  some- 
time like  god  Bel's  priests  in  the  old  church-window,  some- 
time like  the  shaven  Hercules  in  the  smirched  worm-eaten 
tapestry. 

Conrade.  All  this  I  see ;  and  I  see  that  the  fashion  wears 
out  more  apparel  than  the  man.  But  art  not  thou  thyself 
giddy  with  the  fashion  too,  that  thou  hast  shifted  out  of  thy 
tale  into  telling  me  of  the  fashion  ?  129 

Borachio.  Not  so,  neither  :  but  know  that  I  have  to-night 
wooed  Margaret,  the  Lady  Hero's  gentlewoman,  by  the  name 
of  Hero;  she  leans  me  out  at  her  mistress's  chamber-window, 


ACT  III.     SCENE  III.  75 

bids  me  a  thousand  times  good  night, — I  tell  this  tale  vile- 
ly : — I  should  first  tell  thee  how  the  prince,  Claudio,  and  my 
master,  planted  and  placed  and  possessed  by  my  master 
Don  John,  saw  afar  off  in  the  orchard  this  amiable  en- 
counter. 

Conrade.  And  thought  they  Margaret  was  Hero  ?  138 

Borachio.  Two  of  them  did,  the  prince  and  Claudio  ;  but 
the  devil  my  master  knew  she  was  Margaret :  and  partly  by 
his  oaths,  which  first  possessed  them,  partly  by  the  dark 
night,  which  did  deceive  them,  but  chiefly  by  my  villany, 
which  did  confirm  any  slander  that  Don  John  had  made, 
away  went  Claudio  enraged;  swore  he  would  meet  her,  as 
he  was  appointed,  next  morning  at  the  temple,  and  there, 
before  the  whole  congregation,  shame  her  with  what  he  saw 
o'er-night  and  send  her  home  again  without  a  husband. 

1  Watch.  We  charge  you,  in  the  prince's  name,  stand  ! 

2  Watch.  Call  up  the  right  master  constable.    We  have 
here  recovered  the  most  dangerous  piece  of  lechery  that 
ever  was  known  in  the  commonwealth.  151 

1  Watch.  And  one  Deformed   is   one  of  them :   I  know 
him  ;  a'  wears  a  lock. 

Conrade.  Masters,  masters, — 

2  Watch.  You  ;11  be  made  bring  Deformed  forth,  I  war- 
rant you. 

Conrade.  Masters, — 

i  Watch.  Never  speak ;  we  charge  you,  let  us  obey  you 
to  go  with  us. 

Borachio.  We  are  like  to  prove  a  goodly  commodity,  be- 
ing taken  up  of  these  men's  bills.  161 

Conrade.  A  commodity  in  question,  I  warrant  you. — Come, 
we  '11  obey  you.  \Exeunt. 


76  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


SCENE  IV.     Herd's  Apartment. 
Enter  HERO,  MARGARET,  and  URSULA. 

Hero.  Good  Ursula,  wake  my  cousin  Beatrice,  and  desire 
her  to  rise. 

Ursula.  I  will,  lady. 

Hero.  And  bid  her  come  hither. 

Ursula.  Well.  [Exit. 

Margaret.  Troth,  I  think  your  other  rabato  were  better. 

Hero.  No,  pray  thee,  good  Meg,  I  '11  wear  this. 

Margaret.  By  my  troth,  's  not  so  good;  and  I  warrant 
your  cousin  will  say  so. 

Hero.  My  cousin  's  a  fool,  and  thou  art  another;  I  '11 
wear  none  but  this.  n 

Margaret.  I  like  the  new  tire  within  excellently,  if  the 
hair  were  a  thought  browner ;  and  your  gown  's  a  most  rare 
fashion,  i'  faith.  I  saw  the  Duchess  of  Milan's  gown  that 
they  praise  so. 

Hero.  O,  that  exceeds,  they  say. 

Margaret.  By  my  troth,  's  but  a  night-gown  in  respect  of 
yours  :  cloth  o'  gold,  and  cuts,  and  laced  with  silver,  set  with 
pearls,  down  sleeves,  side  sleeves,  and  skirts  round,  under- 
borne  with  a  bluish  tinsel;  but  for  a  fine,  quaint,  graceful, 
and  excellent  fashion,  yours  is  worth  ten  on  't.  2t 

Hero.  God  give  me  joy  to  wear  it !  for  my  heart  is  ex- 
ceeding heavy. 

Margaret.  'T  will  be  heavier  soon  by  the  weight  of  a  man. 

Hero.  Fie  upon  thee  !  art  not  ashamed  ? 

Margaret.  Of  what,  lady?  of  speaking  honourably?  Is 
not  marriage  honourable  in  a  beggar?  Is  not  your  lord 
honourable  without  marriage  ?  I  think  you  would  have  me 
say,  ' saving  your  reverence,  a  husband:'  an  bad  thinking 
do  not  wrest  true  speaking,  I  '11  offend  nobody ;  is  there 
any  harm  in  'the  heavier  for  a  husband?'  None,  I  think, 


ACT  III.    SCENE  IV. 


77 


an  it  be  the  right  husband  and  the  right  wife ;  otherwise 
't  is  light,  and  not  heavy  :  ask  my  Lady  Beatrice  else ;  here 

she  comes.  34 

Enter  BEATRICE. 

Hero.  Good  morrow,  coz. 

Beatrice.  Good  morrow,  sweet  Hero. 

Hero.  Why,  how  now  ?  do  you  speak  in  the  sick  tune  ? 

Beatrice.  I  am  out  of  all  other  tune,  methinks. 

Margaret.  Clap  's  into  '  Light  o'  love ;'  that  goes  without 
a  burden  :  do  you  sing  it,  and  I  '11  dance  it.  40 

Beatrice.  Yea,  light  o'  love,  with  your  heels !  then,  if  your 
husband  have  stables  enough,  you  '11  see  he  shall  lack  no 
barns. 

Margaret.  O  illegitimate  construction  !  I  scorn  that  with 
my  heels. 

Beatrice.  'T  is  almost  five  o'clock,  cousin  ;  't  is  time  you 
were  ready.  By  my  troth,  I  am  exceeding  ill ;  heigh-ho  ! 

Margaret.  For  a  hawk,  a  horse,  or  a  husband  ? 

Beatrice.  For  the  letter  that  begins  them  all,  H. 

Margaret.  Well,  an  you  be  not  turned  Turk,  there  's  no 
more  sailing  by  the  star.  51 

Beatrice.  What  means  the  fool,  trow  ? 

Margaret.  Nothing  I ;  but  God  send  every  one  their 
heart's  desire ! 

Hero.  These  gloves  the  count  sent  me;  they  are  an  ex- 
cellent perfume. 

Beatrice.  I  am  stuffed,  cousin  ;  I  cannot  smell. 

Margaret.  A  maid,  and  stuffed !  there  's  goodly  catching 
of  cold. 

Beatrice.  O,  God  help  me !  God  help  me !  how  long  have 
you  professed  apprehension  ?  61 

Margaret.  Ever  since  you  left  it.  Doth  not  my  wit  be- 
come me  rarely  ? 

Beatrice.  It  is  not  seen  enough,  you  should  wear  it  in  your 
cap.  By  my  troth,  T  am  sick. 


78  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Margaret.  Get  you  some  of  this  distilled  Carduus  Bene- 
dictus, and  lay  it  to  your  heart ;  it  is  the  only  thing  for  a 
qualm. 

Hero.  There  th on  prickest  her  with  a  thistle. 

Beatrice.  Benedictus !  why  Benedictus  ?  you  have  some 
moral  in  this  Benedictus.  71 

Margaret.  Moral !  no,  by  my  troth,  I  have  no  moral  mean- 
ing ;  I  meant,  plain  holy-thistle.  You  may  think  perchance 
that  I  think  you  are  in  love ;  nay,  by  'r  lady,  I  am  not  such 
a  fool  to  think  what  I  list,  nor  I  list  not  to  think  what  I  can, 
nor  indeed  I  cannot  think,  if  I  would  think  my  heart  out  of 
thinking,  that  you  are  in  love,  or  that  you  will  be  in  love,  or 
that  you  can  be  in  love.  Yet  Benedick  was  such  another, 
and  now  is  he  become  a  man  ;  he  swore  he  would  never 
marry,  and  yet  now,  in  despite  of  his  heart,  he  eats  his  meat 
without  grudging:  and  how  you  may  be  converted  I  know 
not,  but  methinks  you  look  with  your  eyes  as  other  women  do. 

Beatrice.  What  pace  is  this  that  thy  tongue  keeps?  83 

Margaret.  Not  a  false  gallop. 

Enter  URSULA. 

Ursula.  Madam,  withdraw ;  the  prince,  the  count,  Signior 
Benedick,  Don  John,  and  all  the  gallants  of  the  town,  are 
come  to  fetch  you  to  church. 

Hero.  Help  to  dress  me,  good  coz,  good  Meg,  good  Ur- 
sula. {Exeunt. 

SCENE  V.     Another  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 
Enter  LEONATO^  with  DOGBERRY  and  VERGES. 

Leonato.  What  would  you  with  me,  honest  neighbour? 

Dogberry.  Marry,  sir,  I  would  have  some  confidence  with 
you  that  decerns  you  nearly. 

Leonato.  Brief,  I  pray  you  ;  for  you  see  it  is  a  busy  time 
with  me. 


ACT  III.     SCENE    V.  79 

Dogberry.  Marry,  this  it  is,  sir. 

Verges.  Yes,  in  truth  it  is,  sir. 

Leonato.  What  is  it,  my  good  friends  ? 

Dogberry.  Goodman  Verges,  sir,  speaks  a  little  off  the 
matter :  an  old  man,  sir,  and  his  wits  are  not  so  blunt  as, 
God  help,  I  would  desire  they  were  ;  but,  in  faith,  honest  as 
the  skin  between  his  brows.  12 

Verges.  Yes,  I  thank  God  I  am  as  honest  as  any  man  liv- 
ing that  is  an  old  man  and  no  honester  than  I. 

Dogberry.  Comparisons  are  odorous  ;  palabras,  neighbour 
Verges. 

Leonato.  Neighbours,  you  are  tedious. 

Dogberry.  It  pleases  your  worship  to  say  so,  but  we  are 
the  poor  duke's  officers ;  but  truly,  for  mine  own  part,  if  I 
were  as  tedious  as  a  king,  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to 
bestow  it  all  of  your  worship.  21 

Leonato.  All  thy  tediousness  on  me,  ah  ? 

Dogberry.  Yea,  an  Jt  were  a  thousand  pound  more  than 
't  is ;  for  I  hear  as  good  exclamation  on  your  worship  as 
of  any  man  in  the  city ;  and  though  I  be  but  a  poor  man, 
I  am  glad  to  hear  it. 

Verges.  And  so  am  I. 

Leonato.  I  would  fain  know  what  you  have  to  say. 

Verges.  Marry,  sir,  our  watch  to-night,  excepting  your 
worship's  presence,  ha'  ta'en  a  couple  of  as  arrant  knaves 
as  any  in  Messina.  3i 

Dogberry.  A  good  old  man,  sir;  he  will  be  talking:  as 
they  say,  when  the  age  is  in,  the  wit  is  out.  God  help  us ! 
it  is  a  world,  to  see.  Well  said,  i'  faith,  neighbour  Verges  : 
well,  God  's  a  good  man  ;  an  two  men  ride  of  a  horse,  one 
must  ride  behind.  An  honest  soul,  i'  faith,  sir ;  by  my  troth 
he  is,  as  ever  broke  bread;  but  God  is  to  be  worshipped;  all 
men  are  not  alike  ;  alas,  good  neighbour ! 

Leonato.  Indeed,  neighbour,  he  comes  too  short  of  you. 

Dogberry.  Gifts  that  God  gives.  40 


8o         MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Leonato.  I  must  leave  you. 

Dogberry.  One  word,  sir  :  our  watch,  sir,  have  indeed  com- 
prehended two  aspicious  persons,  and  we  would  have  them 
this  morning  examined  before  your  worship. 

Leonato.  Take  their  examination  yourself  and  bring  it 
me;  I  am  now  in  great  haste,  as  it  may  appear  unto  you. 

Dogberry.  It  shall  be  suffigance. 

Leonato.  Drink  some  wine  ere  you  go.     Fare  you  well. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Messenger.  My  lord,  they  stay  for  you  to  give  your  daugh- 
ter to  her  husband.  50 

Leonato.  I  '11  wait  upon  them  ;  I  am  ready. 

\Exeunt  Leonato  and  Messenger. 

Dogberry.  Go,  good  partner,  go,  get  you  to  Francis  Sea- 
cole;  bid  him  bring  his  pen  and  inkhorn  to  the  gaol:  we 
are  now  to  examine  those  men. 

Verges.  And  we  must  do  it  wisely. 

Dogberry.  We  will  spare  for  no  wit,  I  warrant  you :  here  's 
that  shall  drive  some  of  them  to  a  non-come :  only  get  the 
learned  writer  to  set  down  our  excommunication,  and  meet 
me  at  the  gaol.  \Exeunt. 


THE  CATHEDRAL  OF   MESSINA. 


ACT  IV. 

SCENE  I.     A  Church. 

Enter  DON  PEDRO,  DON  JOHN,  LEONATO,  FRIAR  FRANCIS, 
CLAUDIO,  BENEDICK,  HERO,  BEATRICE,  and  Attendants. 

Leonato.  Come,  Friar  Francis,  be  brief;  only  to  the  plain 
form  of  marriage,  and  you  shall  recount  their  particular  du- 
ties afterwards. 

F 


82  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Friar  Francis.  You  come  hither,  my  lord,  to  marry  this 
lady. 

Claudia.  No. 

Leonato.  To  be  married  to  her ;  friar,  you  come  to  marry 
her. 

Friar  Francis.  Lady,  you  come  hither  to  be  married  to 
this  count.  10 

Hero.  I  do. 

Friar  Francis.  If  either  of  you  know  any  inward  impedi- 
ment why  you  should  not  be  conjoined,  I  charge  you,  on 
your  souls,  to  utter  it. 

Claudio.  Know  you  any,  Hero  ?    , 

Hero.  None,  my  lord. 

Friar  Francis.  Know  you  any,  count  ? 

Leonato.  I  dare  make  his  answer,  none. 

Claudio.  O,  what  men  dare  do!  what  men  may  do!  what 
men  daily  do,  not  knowing  what  they  do !  20 

Benedick.  How  now!  interjections?  Why,  then,  some  be 
of  laughing,  as,  ah,  ha,  he  ! 

Claudio.  Stand  thee  by,  friar. — Father,  by  your  leave  : 
Will  you  with  free  and  unconstrained  soul 
Give  me  this  maid,  your  daughter? 

Leonato.  As  freely,  son,  as  God  did  give  her  me. 

Claudio.  And  what  have  I  to  give  you  back,  whose  worth 
May  counterpoise  this  rich  and  precious  gift? 

Don  Pedro.  Nothing,  unless  you  render  her  again. 

Claudio.  Sweet  prince,  you  learn  me  noble  thankfulness. 
There,  Leonato,  take  her  back  again  :  $\ 

Give  not  this  rotten  orange  to  your  friend ; 
She  's  but  the  sign  and  semblance  of  her  honour. 
Behold  how  like  a  maid  she  blushes  here ! 
O,  what  authority  and  show  of  truth 
Can  cunning  sin  cover  itself  withal ! 
Comes  not  that  blood  as  modest  evidence 
To  witness  simple  virtue  ?     Would  you  not  swear, 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  L  83 

All  you  that  see  her,  that  she  were  a  maid, 

By  these  exterior  shows?     But  she  is  none  :  40 

She  knows  the  heat  of  a  luxurious  bed ; 

Her  blush  is  guiltiness,  not  modesty. 

Leonato.  What  do  you  mean,  my  lord  ? 

Claudio.  Not  to  be  married, 

Not  to  knit  my  soul  to  an  approved  wanton. 

Leonato.  Dear  my  lord,  if  you,  in  your  own  proof, 
Have  vanquish'd  the  resistance  of  her  youth, 
And  made  defeat  of  her  virginity, — • 

Claudio.  I  know  what  you  would  say.     No,  Leonato, 
I  never  tempted  her  with  word  too  large ; 
But,  as  a  brother  to  his  sister,  show'd  so 

Bashful  sincerity  and  comely  love. 

Hero.  And  seem'd  I  ever  otherwise  to  you? 

Claudio.  Out  on  thy  seeming  I    I  will  write  against  it : 
You  seem  to  me  as  Dian  in  her  orb, 
As  chaste  as  is  the  bud  ere  it  be  blown ; 
But  you  are  more  intemperate  in  your  blood 
Than  Venus,  or  those  pamper'd  animals 
That  rage  in  savage  sensuality. 

Hero.  Is  my  lord  well,  that  he  doth  speak  so  wide  ? 

Leonato.  Sweet  prince,  why  speak  not  you? 

Don  Pedro.  What  should  I  speak  ? 

I  stand  dishonoured,  that  have  gone  about  61 

To  link  my  dear  friend  to  a  common  stale. 

Leonato.  Are  these  things  spoken,  or  do  I  but  dream? 

Don  John.  Sir,  they  are  spoken,  and  these  things  are  true. 

Benedick.  This  looks  not  like  a  nuptial. 

Hero.  True  !  O  God ! 

Claudio.     Leonato,  stand  I  here  ? 
Is  this  the  prince  ?  is  this  the  prince's  brother  ? 
Is  this  face  Hero's  ?  are  our  eyes  our  own  ? 

Leonato.   All  this  is  so  ;  but  what  of  this,  my  lord? 

Claudio.  Let  me  but  move  one  question  to  your  daughter  ; 


84         MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

And,  by  that  fatherly  and  kindly  power  7i 

That  you  have  in  her,  bid  her  answer  truly. 

Leonato.  I  charge  thee  do  so,  as  thou  art  my  child. 

Hero.  O,  God  defend  me  !  how  am  I  beset ! — 
What  kind  of  catechising  call  you  this? 

Claudia.  To  make  you  answer  truly  to  your  name. 

Hero.  Is  it  not  Hero  ?     Who  can  blot  that  name 
With  any  just  reproach  ? 

Claudio.  Marry,  that  can  Hero  ; 

Hero  itself  can  blot  out  Hero's  virtue. 

What  man  was  he  talk'd  with  you  yesternight  80 

Out  at  your  window  betwixt  twelve  and  one  ? 
Now,  if  you  are  a  maid,  answer  to  this. 

Hero.  I  talk'd  with  no  man  at  that  hour,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  Why,  then  are  you  no  maiden. — Leonato, 
I  am  sorry  you  must  hear:  upon  mine  honour, 
Myself,  my  brother,  and  this  grieved  count 
Did  see  her,  hear  her,  at  that  hour  last  night 
Talk  with  a  ruffian  at  her  chamber-window ; 
Who  hath  indeed,  most  like  a  liberal  villain, 
Confessed  the  vile  encounters  they  have  had  90 

A  thousand  times  in  secret. 

Don  John.  Fie,  fie!  they  are  not  to  be  nam'd,  my  lord, 
Not  to  be  spoke  of; 

There  is  not  chastity  enough  in  language 
Without  offence  to  utter  them. — Thus,  pretty  lady, 
I  am  sorry  for  thy  much  misgovern m en t. 

Claudio.  O  Hero,  what  a  Hero  hadst  thou  been, 
If  half  thy  outward  graces  had  been  plac'd 
About  thy  thoughts  and  counsels  of  thy  heart ! 
But  fare  thee  well,  most  foul,  most  fair!  farewell,  i00 

Thou  pure  impiety  and  impious  purity ! 
For  thee  I  '11  lock  up  all  the  gates  of  love, 
And  on  my  eyelids  shall  conjecture  hang, 
To  turn  all  beauty  into  thoughts  of  harm, 
And  never  shall  it  more  be  gracious. 


ACT  IF.     SCENE  I.  85 

Leonato.  Hath  no  man's  dagger  here  a  point  for  me  ? 

\Hero  swoons. 

Beatrice.  Why,  how  now,  cousin  !  wherefore  sink  you  down  ? 

Don  John.  Come,  let  us  go.     These  things,  come  thus  to 

light, 
Smother  her  spirits  up. 

[Exeunt  Don  Pedro,  Don  John,  and  Claudio. 

Benedick.  How  doth  the  lady  ? 

Beatrice.  Dead,  I  think. — Help,  uncle  ! 

Hero!  why,  Hero  !— Uncle! — Signior  Benedick  ! — Friar! 

Leonato.  O  Fate  !  take  not  away  thy  heavy  hand.  112 

Death  is  the  fairest  cover  for  her  shame 
That  may  be  wish'd  for. 

Beatrice.  ~  How  now,  cousin  Hero ! 

Friar  Francis.  Have  comfort,  lady. 

Leonato.  Dost  thou  look  up  ? 

Friar  Francis.  Yea,  wherefore  should  she  not  ? 

Leonato.  Wherefore  !     Why,  doth  not  every  earthly  thing 
Cry  shame  upon  her  ?     Could  she  here  deny 
The  story  that  is  printed  in  her  blood  ? — 
Do  not  live,  Hero ;  do  not  ope  thine  eyes  :  121 

For,  did  I  think  thou  wouldst  not  quickly  die, 
Thought  I  thy  spirits  were  stronger  than  thy  shames, 
Myself  would,  on  the  rearward  of  reproaches, 
Strike  at  thy  life.     Griev'd  I,  I  had  but  one? 
Chid  I  for  that  at  frugal  nature's  frame  ? 
O,  one  too  much  by  thee  !     Why  had  I  one? 
Why  ever  wast  thou  lovely  in  my  eyes  ? 
Why  had  I  not  with  charitable  hand 

Took  up  a  beggar's  issue  at  my  gates,  130 

Who  smirched  thus  and  mir'd  with  infamy, 
I  might  have  said  ( No  part  of  it  is  mine  ; 
This  shame  derives  itself  from  unknown  loins  ?' 
But  mine,  and  mine  I  lov'd,  and  mine  I  prais'd, 
And  mine  that  I  was  proud  on,  mine  so  much 


86  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

That  I  myself  was  to  myself  not  mine, 

Valuing  of  her, — why,  she,  O,  she  is  fallen 

Into  a  pit  of  ink,  that  the  wide  sea 

Hath  drop's  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again, 

And  salt  too  little  which  may  season  give  140 

To  her  foul-tainted  flesh  ! 

Benedick.  Sir,  sir,  be  patient. 

For  my  part,  I  am  so  attir'd  in  wonder, 
I  know  not  what  to  say. 

Beatrice.  O,  on  my  soul,  my  cousin  is  belied  ! 

Benedick.  Lady,  were  you  her  bedfellow  last  night? 

Beatrice.  No,  truly  not ;  although,  until  last  night, 
I  have  this  twelvemonth  been  her  bedfellow. 

Leonato.  Confirmed,  confirmed  !     O,  that  is  stronger  made 
Which  was  before  barr'd  up  with  ribs  of  iron  ! 
Would  the  two  princes  lie,  and  Claudio  lie,  150 

Who  lov'd  her  so,  that,  speaking  of  her  foulness, 
Waslrd  it  with  tears  ?     Hence  from  her  !  let  her  die. 

Friar  Francis.  Hear  me  a  little ; 
For  I  have  only  silent  been  so  long, 
And  given  way  unto  this  course  of  fortune, 
By  noting  of  the  lady:  I  have  mark'd 
A  thousand  blushing  apparitions 
To  start  into  her  face,  a  thousand  innocent  shames 
In  angel  whiteness  bear  away  those  blushes ; 
And  in  her  eye  there  hath  appear'd  a  fire,  160 

To  burn  the  errors  that  these  princes  hold 
Against  her  maiden  truth. — Call  me  a  fool ; 
Trust  not  my  reading  nor  my  observations, 
Which  with  experimental  seal  doth  warrant 
The  tenour  of  my  book  ;  trust  not  my  age, 
My  reverence,  calling,  nor  divinity, 
If  this  sweet  lady  lie  not  guiltless  here 
Under  some  biting  error. 

Leonato.  Friar,  it  cannot  be. 


ACT  IV.      SCENE  I.  87 

Thou  seest  that  all  the  grace  that  she  hath  left 

Is  that  she  will  not  add  to  her  damnation  170 

A  sin  of  perjury ;  she  not  denies  it: 

Why  seek'st  thou  then  to  cover  with  excuse 

That  which  .appears  in  proper  nakedness? 

Friar  Francis.  Lady,  what  man  is  he  you  are  accus'd  of? 

Hero.  They  know  that  do  accuse  me  ;  I  know  none : 
If  I  know  more  of  any  man  alive 
Than  that  which  maiden  modesty  doth  warrant, 
Let  all  my  sins  lack  mercy! — O  my  father, 
Prove  you  that  any  man  with  me  convers'd 
At  hours  unmeet,  or  that  I  yesternight  180 

Maintain'd  the  change  of  words  with  any  creature, 
Refuse  me,  hate  me,  torture  me  to  death  ! 

Friar  Francis.   There  is  some  strange  misprision  in  the 
princes. 

Benedick.  Two  of  them  have  the  very  bent  of  honour; 
And  if  their  wisdoms  be  misled  in  this, 
The  practice  of  it  lives  in  John  the  bastard, 
Whose  spirits  toil  in  frame  of  villanies. 

Leonato.  I  know  not.     If  they  speak  but  truth  of  her, 
These  hands  shall  tear  her;  if  they  wrong  her  honour, 
The  proudest  of  them  shall  well  hear  of  it.  19° 

Time  hath  not  yet  so  dried  this  blood  of  mine, 
Nor  age  so  eat  up  my  invention, 
Nor  fortune  made  such  havoc  of  my  means, 
Nor  my  bad  life  reft  me  so  much  of  friends, 
But  they  shall  find,  awak'd  in  such  a  kind, 
Both  strength  of  limb  and  policy  of  mind, 
Ability  in  means  and  choice  of  friends, 
To  quit  me  of  them  throughly. 

Friar  Francis.  Pause  awhile, 

And  let  my  counsel  sway  you  in  this  case. 
Your  daughter  here  the  princes  left  for  dead  :  200 

Let  her  awhile  be  secretly  kept  in, 


88  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

And  publish  it  that  she  is  dead  indeed; 
Maintain  a  mourning  ostentation, 
And  on  your  family's  old  monument 
Hang  mournful  epitaphs,  and  do  all  rites 
That  appertain  unto  a  burial. 

Leonato.  What  shall  become  of  this  ?  what  will  this  do  ? 

Friar  Francis.  Marry,  this  well  carried  shall  on  her  behalf 
Change  slander  to  remorse  ;  that  is  some  good : 
But  not  for  that  dream  I  on  this  strange  course,  210 

But  on  this  travail  look  for  greater  birth. 
She  dying,  as  it  must  be  so  maintain'd, 
Upon  the  instant  that  she  was  accus'd, 
Shall  be  lamented,  pitied,  and  excus'd 
Of  every  hearer ;  for  it  so  falls  out 
That  what  we  have  we  prize  not  to  the  worth 
Whiles  we  enjoy  it,  but  being  lack'd  and  lost, 
Why,  then  we  rack  the  value,  then  we  find 
The  virtue  that  possession  would  not  show  us 
Whiles  it  was  ours.     So  will  it  fare  with  Claudio :  220 

When  he  shall  hear  she  died  upon  his  words, 
The  idea  of  her  life  shall  sweetly  creep 
Into  his  study  of  imagination, 
And  every  lovely  organ  of  her  life 
Shall  come  apparell'd  in  more  precious  habit, 
More  moving,  delicate,  and  full  of  life, 
Into  the  eye  and  prospect  of  his  soul, 
Than  when  she  liv'd  indeed  ;  then  shall  he  mourn, 
If  ever  love  had  interest  in  his  liver, 

And  wish  he  had  not  so  accused  her,  230 

No,  though  he  thought  his  accusation  true. 
Let  this  be  so,  and  doubt  not  but  success 
Will  fashion  the  event  in  better  shape 
Than  I  can  lay  it  down  in  likelihood. 
But  if  all  aim  but  this  be  levell'd  false, 
The  supposition  of  the  lady's  death 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  I.  89 

Will  quench  the  wonder  of  her  infamy; 

And  if  it  sort  not  well,  you  may  conceal  her, 

As  best  befits  her  wounded  reputation, 

In  some  reclusive  and  religious  life,  240 

Out  of  all  eyes,  tongues,  minds,  and  injuries. 

Benedick.  Signior  Leonato,  let  the  friar  advise  you ; 
And  though  you  know  my  inwardness  and  love 
Is  very  much  unto  the  prince  and  Claudio, 
Yet,  by  mine  honour,  I  will  deal  in  this 
As  secretly  and  justly  as  your  soul 
Should  with  your  body. 

Leonato.  Being  that  I  flow  in  grief, 

The  smallest  twine  may  lead  me. 

Friar  Francis.  'T  is  well  consented  :  presently  away; 

For  to  strange  sores  strangely  they  strain  the  cure. —  250 
Come,  lady,  die  to  live :  this  wedding-day 

Perhaps  is  but  prolong'd  ;  have  patience  and  endure. 

\Exeunt  all  but  Benedick  and  Beatrice. 

Benedick.  Lady  Beatrice,  have  you  wept  all  this  while? 

Beatrice.  Yea,  and  I  will  weep  a  while  longer. 

Benedick.  I  will  not  desire  that. 

Beatrice.  You  have  no  reason  ;  I  do  it  freely. 

Benedick.  Surely  I  do  believe  your  fair  cousin  is  wronged. 

Beatrice.  Ah,  how  much  might  the  man  deserve  of  me 
that  would  right  her ! 

Benedick.  Is  there  any  way  to  show  such  friendship  ?      260 

Beatrice.  A  very  even  way,  but  no  such  friend. 

Benedick.  May  a  man  do  it  ? 

Beatrice.  It  is  a  man's  office,  but  not  yours. 

Benedick.  I  do  love  nothing  in  the  world  so  well  as  you ; 
is  not  that  strange  ? 

Beatrice.  As  strange  as  the  thing  I  know  not.  It  were  as 
possible  for  me  to  say  I  loved  nothing  so  well  as  you  :  but 
believe  me  not ;  and  yet  I  lie  not ;  I  confess  nothing,  nor  I 
deny  nothing. — I  am  sorry  for  my  cousin. 


co  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Benedick.  By  my  sword,  Beatrice,  thou  lovest  me.  270 

Beatrice.  Do  not  swear  by  it,  and  eat  it. 

Benedick.  I  will  swear  by  it  that  you  love  me  ;  and  I  will 
make  him  eat  it  that  says  I  love  not  you. 

Beatrice.  Will  you  not  eat  your  word  ? 

Benedick.  With  no  sauce  that  can  be  devised  to  it.  I  pro- 
test I  love  thee. 

Beatrice.  WThy,  then,  God  forgive  me  ! 

Benedick.  What  offence,  sweet  Beatrice  ? 

Beatrice.  You  have  stayed  me  in  a  happy  hour;  I  was 
about  to  protest  I  loved  you.  280 

Benedick.  And  do  it  with  all  thy  heart. 

Beatrice.  I  love  you  with  so  much  of  my  heart  that  none 
is  left  to  protest. 

Benedick.  Come,  bid  me  do  any  thing  for  thee. 

Beatrice.  Kill  Claudio. 

Benedick.  Ha !  not  for  the  wide  world. 

Beatrice.  You  kill  me  to  deny  it.     Farewell. 

Benedick.  Tarry,  sweet  Beatrice. 

Beatrice.  I  am  gone,  though  I  am  here ;  there  is  no  love 
in  you. — Nay,  I  pray  you,  let  me  go.  290 

Benedick.  Beatrice, — 

Beatrice.   In  faith,  I  will  go. 

Benedick.  We  '11  be  friends  first. 

Beatrice.  You  dare  easier  be  friends  with  me  than  fight 
with  mine  enemy. 

Benedick.  Is  Claudio  thine  enemy? 

Beatrice.  Is  he  not  approved  in  the  height  a  villain,  that 
hath  slandered,  scorned,  dishonoured  my  kinswoman  ?  O 
that  I  were  a  man !  What,  bear  her  in  hand  until  they  come 
to  take  hands  ;  and  then,  with  public  accusation,  uncovered 
slander,  unmitigated  rancour,— O  God,  that  I  were  a  man  ! 
I  would  eat  his  heart  in  the  market-place.  302 

Benedick.   Hear  me,  Beatrice, — 

Beatrice.  Talk  with  a  man  out  at  a  window  !  A  proper 
saving  ! 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  91 

Benedick.  Nay,  but,  Beatrice, — 

Beatrice.  Sweet  Hero  !  She  is  wronged,  she  is  slandered, 
she  is  undone. 

Benedick.  Beat — 

Beatrice.  Princes  and  counties  !  Surely,  a  princely  testi- 
mony, a  goodly  count,  Count  Comfect;  a  sweet  gallant, 
surely !  O  that  I  were  a  man  for  his  sake !  or  that  I  had 
any  friend  would  be  a  man  for  my  sake !  But  manhood  is 
melted  into  courtesies,  valour  into  compliment,  and  men  are 
only  turned  into  tongue,  and  trim  ones  too ;  he  is  now  as 
valiant  as  Hercules  that  only  tells  a  lie  and  swears  it. — I 
cannot  be  a  man  with  wishing,  therefore  I  will  die  a  woman 
with  grieving. 

Benedick.  Tarry,  good  Beatrice.    By  this  hand,  I  love  thee. 

Beatrice.  Use  it  for  my  love  some  other  way  than  swear- 
ing by  it.  321 

Benedick.  Think  you  in  your  soul  the  Count  Claudio  hath 
wronged  Hero  ? 

Beatrice.  Yea,  as  sure  as  I  have  a  thought  or  a'soul. 

Benedick.  Enough,  I  am  engaged  ;  I  will  challenge  him. 
I  will  kiss  your  hand,  and  so  I  leave  you.  By  this  hand, 
Claudio  shall  render  me  a  dear  account.  As  you  hear  of 
me,  so  think  of  me.  Go,  comfort  your  cousin ;  I  must  say 
she  is  dead  :  and  so,  farewell.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     A  Prison. 

Enter  DOGBERRY,  VERGES,  and  Sexton,  in  gowns;  and  the 
Watch,  with  CONRADE  and  BORACHIO. 

Dogberry.  Is  our  whole  dissembly  appeared  ? 
Verges.  O,  a  stool  and  a  cushion  for  the  sexton. 
Sexton.  Which  be  the  malefactors  ? 
Dogberry.  Marry,  that  am  I  and  my  partner. 
Verges.  Nay,  that  's  certain ;  we  have  the  exhibition  to  ex- 
amine. 


92  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Sexton.  But  which  are  the  offenders  that  are  to  be  exam- 
ined? let  them  come  before  master  constable. 

Dogberry.  Yea,  marry,  let  them  come  before  me. — What 
is  your  name,  friend  ?  10 

Borachio.  Borachio. 

Dogberry.  Pray,  write  down,  Borachio. — Yours,  sirrah  ? 

Conrade.  I  am  a  gentleman,  sir,  and  my  name  is  Conrade. 

Dogberry.  Write  down,  master  gentleman  Conrade. — Mas- 
ters, do  you  serve  God  ? 

Conrade. 


Dogberry.  Write  down,  that  they  hope  they  serve  God  : 
and  write  God  first ;  for  God  defend  but  God  should  go  be- 
fore such  villains! — Masters,  it  is  proved  already  that  you 
are  little  better  than  false  knaves ;  and  it  will  go  near  to  be 
thought  so  shortly.  How  answer  you  for  yourselves  ?  21 

Conrade.  Marry,  sir,  we  say  we  are  none. 

Dogberry.  A  marvellous  witty  fellow,  I  assure  you ;  but  I 
will  go  about  with  him. — Come  you  hither,  sirrah  ;  a  word 
in  your  ear:  sir,  I  say  to  you,  it  is  thought  you  are  false 
knaves. 

Borachio.  Sir,  I  say  to  you  we  are  none. 

Dogberry.  Well,  stand  aside. — Fore  God,  they  are  both 
in  a  tale. — Have  you  writ  down,  that  they  are  none  ? 

Sexton.  Master  constable,  you  go  not  the  way  to  examine : 
you  must  call  forth  the  watch  that  are  their  accusers.  31 

Dogberry.  Yea,  marry,  that  's  the  eftest  way.  —  Let  the 
watch  come  forth. — Masters,  I  charge  you,  in  the  prince's 
name,  accuse  these  men. 

i  Watch.  This  man  said,  sir,  that  Don  John,  the  prince's 
brother,  was  a  villain. 

Dogberry.  Write  down  Prince  John  a  villain.  Why,  this 
is  flat  perjury,  to  call  a  prince's  brother  villain. 

Borachio.  Master  constable, — 

Dogberry.  Pray  thee,  fellow,  peace ;  I  do  not  like  thy 
look,  I  promise  thee.  41 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  95 

Sexton.  What  heard  you  him  say  else  ? 

2  Watch.  Marry,  that  he  had  received  a  thousand  ducats 
of  Don  John  for  accusing  the  Lady  Hero  wrongfully. 

Dogberry.  Flat  burglary  as  ever  was  committed. 

Verges.  Yea,  by  the  mass,  that  it  is. 

Sexton.  What  else,  fellow  ? 

i  Watch.  And  that  Count  Claudio  did  mean,  upon  his 
words,  to  disgrace  Hero  before  the  whole  assembly,  and  not 
marry  her.  5° 

Dogberry.  O  villain  !  thou  wilt  be  condemned  into  ever- 
lasting redemption  for  this. 

Sexton.  What  else  ? 

Watch.  This  is  all. 

Sexton.  And  this  is  more,  masters,  than  you  can  deny. 
Prince  John  is  this  morning  secretly  stolen  away;  Hero  was 
in  this  manner  accused,  in  this  very  manner  refused,  and 
upon  the  grief  of  this  suddenly  died. — Master  constable,  let 
these  men  be  bound,  and  brought  to  Leonato's;  I  will  go 
before  and  show  him  their  examination.  [Exit. 

Dogberry.  Come,  let  them  be  opinioned.  61 

Verges.  Let  them  be  in  the  hands — 

Conrade.  Off,  coxcomb  ! 

Dogberry.  God  's  my  life,  where  's  the  sexton  ?  let  him 
write  down  the  prince's  officer  coxcomb. — Come,  bind  them. 
— Thou  naughty  varlet ! 

Conrade.  Away!  you  are  an  ass,  you  are  an  ass.  67 

Dogberry.  Dost  thou  not  suspect  my  place  ?  clost  thou  not 
suspect  my  years?— O  that  he  were  here  to  write  me  down 
an  ass ! — But,  masters,  remember  that  I  am  an  ass  ;  though 
it  be  not  written  down,  yet  forget  not  that  I  am  an  ass. — 
No,  thou  villain,  thou  art  full  of  piety,  as  shall  be  proved , 
upon  thee  by  good  witness.  I  am  a  wise  fellow,  and,  which 
is  more,  an  officer;  and,  which  is  more,  a  householder;  and, 
which  is  more,  as  pretty  a  piece  of  flesh  as  any  is  in  Messi- 
na, and  one  that  knows  the  law,  go  to ;  and  a  rich  fellow 


94 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


enough,  go  to;  and  a  fellow  that  hath  had  losses;  and  one 
that  hath  two  gowns  and  every  thing  handsome  about  him. 
— Bring  him  away. — O  that  I  had  been  writ  down  an  ass ! 

\Exeunt. 


LUDOVICO  ARIOSTO  (see  p.  10). 


HERO  S   TOMB. 


ACT  V. 

SCENE  I.     Before  Leonattfs  House. 
Enter  LEONATO  and  ANTONIO. 

Antonio.  If  you  go  on  thus,  you  will  kill  yourself; 
And  't  is  not  wisdom  thus  to  second  grrief 

o 

Against  yourself. 


96  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Leonato.  I  pray  thee,  cease  thy  counsel, 

Which  falls  into  mine  ears  as  profitless 
As  water  in  a  sieve  :  give  not  me  counsel ; 
Nor  let  no  comforter  delight  mine  ear 
But  such  a  one  whose  wrongs  do  suit  with  mine. 
Bring  me  a  father  that  so  lov'd  his  child, 
Whose  joy  of  her  is  overwhelmed,  like  mine, 
And  bid  him  speak  of  patience  ; 
Measure  his  woe  the  length  and  breadth  of  mine, 
And  let  it  answer  every  strain  for  strain, 
As  thus  for  thus,  and  such  a  grief  for  such, 
In  every  lineament,  branch,  shape,  and  form  : 
If  such  a  one  will  smile  and  stroke  his  beard, 
Bid  sorrow  wag,  cry  '  hem  !'  when  he  should  groan, 
Patch  grief  with  proverbs,  make  misfortune  drunk 
With  candle-wasters ;  bring  him  yet  to  me, 
And  I  of  him  will  gather  patience. 
But  there  is  no  such  man  :  for,  brother,  men 
Can  counsel  and  speak  comfort  to  that  grief 
Which  they  themselves  not  feel  ;  but,  tasting  it, 
Their  counsel  turns  to  passion,  which  before 
Would  give  preceptial  medicine  to  rage, 
Fetter  strong  madness  in  a  silken  thread, 
Charm  ache  with  air  and  agony  with  words. 
No,  no ;  't  is  all  men's  office  to  speak  patience 
To  those  that  wring  under  the  load  of  sorrow, 
But  no  man's  virtue  nor  sufficiency 
To  be  so  moral  when  he  shall  endure 
The  like  himself.     Therefore  give  me  no  counsel; 
My  griefs  cry  louder  than  advertisement. 

Antonio.  Therein  do  men  from  children  nothing  differ. 

Leonato.   I  pray  thee,  peace.     I  will  be  flesh  and  blood; 
For  there  was  never  yet  philosopher 
That  could  endure  the  toothache  patiently, 
However  they  have  writ  the  style  of  gods 
And  made  a  push  at  chance  and  sufferance. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 


97 


Antonio.  Yet  bend  not  all  the  harm  upon  yourself; 
Make  those  that  do  offend  you  suffer  too.  4o 

Leonato.  There  thou  speak'st  reason  ;  nay,  I  will  do  so. 
My  soul  doth  tell  me  Hero  is  belied, 
And  that  shall  Claudio  know ;  so  shall  the  prince 
And  all  of  them  that  thus  dishonour  her. 

Antonio.  Here  comes  the  prince  and  Claudio  hastily. 

Enter  DON  PEDRO  and  CLAUDIO. 

Don  Pedro.  Good  den,  good  den. 

Claudio.  Good  day  to  both  of  you. 

Leonato.  Hear  you,  my  lords, — • 

Don  Pedro.  We  have  some  haste,  Leonato. 

Leonato.  Some  haste,  my  lord  !  well,  fare  you  well,  my  lord : 
Are  you  so  hasty  now  ?  well,  all  is  one. 

Don  Pedro.  Nay,  do  not  quarrel  with  us,  good  old  man.  50 

Antonio.  If  he  could  right  himself  with  quarrelling, 
Some  of  us  would  lie  low. 

Claudio.  Who  wrongs  him  ? 

Leonato.  Marry,  thou  dost  wrong  me ;   thou  dissembler, 

thou  I—- 
Nay, never  lay  thy  hand  upon  thy  sword ; 
I  fear  thee  not. 

Claudio.  Marry,  beshrew  my  hand, 

If  it  should  give  your  age  such  cause  of  fear ; 
In  faith,  my  hand  meant  nothing  to  my  sword. 

'  Leonato.  Tush,  tush,  man,  never  fleer  and  jest  at  me  ; 
I  speak  not  like  a  dotard  nor  a  fool, 

As  under  privilege  of  age  to  brag  60 

What  I  have  done  being  young,  or  what  would  do 
Were  I  not  old.     Know,  Claudio,  to  thy  head, 
Thou  hast  so  wrong'd  mine  innocent  child  and  me 
That  I  am  forc'd  to  lay  my  reverence  by, 
And,  with  grey  hairs  and  bruise  of  many  days, 
Do  challenge  thee  to  trial  of  a  man. 

G 


98  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

I  say  thou  hast  belied  mine  innocent  child  : 

Thy  slander  hath  gone  through  and  through  her  heart, 

And  she  lies  buried  with  her  ancestors ; 

O,  in  a  tomb  where  never  scandal  slept,  7o 

Save  this  of  hers,  fram'd  by  thy  villany  ! 

Claudio.  My  villany  ? 

Leonato.  Thine,  Claudio  ;  thine,  I  say. 

Don  Pedro.  You  say  not  right,  old  man. 

Leonato.  My  lord,  my  lord, 

I  '11  prove  it  on  his  body,  if  he  dare, 
Despite  his  nice  fence  and  his  active  practice, 
His  May  of  youth  and  bloom  of  lustihood. 

Claudio.  Away !  I  will  not  have  to  do  with  you. 

Leonato.  Canst  thou   so  daff  me?     Thou  hast  kill'd  my 

child ; 
If  thou  kill'st  me,  boy,  thou  shalt  kill  a  man. 

Antonio.  He  shall  kill  two  of  us,  and  men  indeed  :  80 

But  that 's  no  matter ;  let  him  kill  one  first ; 
Win  me  and  wear  me ;  let  him  answer  me. 
Come,  follow  me,  boy  ;  come,  sir  boy,  come,  follow  me  : 
Sir  boy,  I  '11  whip  you  from  your  foining  fence; 
Nay,  as  I  am  a  gentleman,  I  will. 

Leonato.   Brother, — 

Antonio.  Content  yourself.     God  knows  I  lov'd  my  niece; 
And  she  is  dead,  slander'd  to  death  by  villains, 
That  dare  as  v/ell  answer  a  man  indeed 
As  I  dare  take  a  serpent  by  the  tongue, —  90 

Boys,  apes,  braggarts,  Jacks,  milksops  ! 

Leonato.  Brother  Antony, — 

Antonio.   Hold  you  content.     What,  man !  I  know  them, 

yea, 

And  what  they  weigh,  even  to  the  utmost  scruple, — 
Scambling,  out-facing,  fashion-monging  boys, 
That  lie  and  cog  and  flout,  deprave  and  slander, 
Go  anticly,  show  outward  hideousness, 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I.  99 

And  speak  off  half  a  dozen  dangerous  words, 
How  they  might  hurt  their  enemies,  if  they  durst ; 
And  this  is  all. 

Leonato.  But,  brother  Antony, —  • 

Antonio.  Come,  't  is  no  matter : 

Do  not  you  meddle  ;  let  me  deal  in  this.  100 

Don  Pedro.  Gentlemen  both,  we  will  not  wake  your  pa- 
tience. 

My  heart  is  sorry  for  your  daughter's  death ; 
But,  on  my  honour,  she  was  charg'd  with  nothing 
But  what  was  true  and  very  full  of  proof. 

Leonato.  My  lord,  my  lord, — 

Don  Pedro.  I  will  not  hear  you. 

Leonato.  No  ?     Come,  brother,  away  !  I  will  be  heard. 

Antonio.  And  shall,  or  some  of  us  will  smart  for  it. 

\Exeunt  Leonato  and  Antonio. 

Don  Pedro.  See,  see  ;  here  comes  the  man  we  went  to  seek. 

Enter  BENEDICK. 

Claudia.  Now,  signior,  what  news?  no 

Benedick.  Good  day,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  Welcome,  signior :  you  are  almost  come  to 
part  almost  a  fray. 

Claudio.  We  had  like  to  have  had  our  two  noses  snapped 
off  with  two  old  men  without  teeth. 

Don  Pedro.  Leonato  and  his  brother.  What  thinkest 
thou  ?  Had  we  fought,  I  doubt  we  should  have  been  too 
young  for  them. 

Benedick.  In  a  false  quarrel  there  is  no  true  valour.  I 
came  to  seek  you  both.  120 

Claudio.  We  have  been  up  and  down  to  seek  thee ;  for 
we  are  high-proof  melancholy,  and  would  fain  have  it  beaten 
away.  Wilt  thou  use  thy  wit  ? 

Benedick.  It  is  in  my  scabbard;  shall  I  draw  it? 

Don  Pedro.  Dost  thou  wear  thy  wit  by  thy  side  ? 


100  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Claudia.  Never  any  did  so,  though  very  many  have  been 
beside  their  wit.  I  will  bid  thee  draw,  as  we  do  the  min- 
strels ;  draw,  to  pleasure  us. 

Don  Pedro*  As  I  am  an  honest  man,  he  looks  pale. — Art 
thou  sick,  or  angry  ?  I30 

Claudio.  What,  courage,  man !  What  though  care  killed 
a  cat,  thou  hast  mettle  enough  in  thee  to  kill  care. 

Benedick.  Sir,  I  shall  meet  your  wit  in  the  career,  an  you 
charge  it  against  me.  I  pray  you  choose  another  subject. 

Claudio.  Nay,  then,  give  him  another  staff;  this  last  was 
broke  cross. 

Don  Pedro.  By  this  light,  he  changes  more  and  more ;  I 
think  he  be  angry  indeed. 

Claudio.  If  he  be,  he  knows  how  to  turn  his  girdle. 

Benedick.  Shall  I  speak  a  word  in  your  ear  ?  HO 

Claudio.  God  bless  me  from  a  challenge  ! 

Benedick.  \Aside  to  Claudio]  You  are  a  villain ;  I  jest  not : 
I  will  make  it  good  how  you  dare,  with  what  you  dare,  and 
when  you  dare.  Do  me  right,  or  I  will  protest  your  coward- 
ice. You  have  killed  a  sweet  lady,  and  her  death  shall  fall 
heavy  on  you.  Let  me  hear  from  you. 

Claudio.  Well,  I  will  meet  you,  so  I  may  have  good  cheer. 

Don  Pedro.  What,  a  feast,  a  feast? 

Claudio.  I'  faith,  I  thank  him  :  he  hath  bid  me  to  a  calf's 
head  and  a  capon  ;  the  which  if  I  do  not  carve  most  curi- 
ously, say  my  knife  's  naught. — Shall  I  not  find  a  woodcock 

tOO?  152 

Benedick.  Sir,  your  wit  ambles  well ;  it  goes  easily. 

Don  Pedro.  I  '11  tell  thee  how  Beatrice  praised  thy  wit  the 
other  day.  I  said,  thou  haclst  a  fine  wit :  '  True/  said  she, 
1  a  fine  little  one.'  <  No;'  said  I, '  a  great  wit :'  '  Right,'  says 
she, '  a  great  gross  one.'  '  Nay,'  said  I, '  a  good  wit :'  '  Just,' 
said  she,  '  it  hurts  nobody.'  '  Nay,'  said  I, '  the  gentleman  is 
wise  :'  '  Certain,'  said  she, '  a  wise  gentleman.'  '  Nay,'  said 
I, '  he  hath  the  tongues  :'  '  That  I  believe,'  said  she,  *  for  he 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I.  101 

swore  a  thing  to  me  on  Monday  night,  which  he  forswore  on 
Tuesday  morning ;  there  's  a  double  tongue  ;  there  's  two 
tongues.'  Thus  did  she,  an  hour  together,  trans-shape  thy 
particular  virtues ;  yet  at  last  she  concluded  with  a  sigh, 
thou  wast  the  properest  man  in  Italy.  165 

Claudia.  For  the  which  she  wept  heartily  and  said  she 
cared  not. 

Don  Pedro.  Yea,  that  she  did  ;  but  yet,  for  all  that,  an  if 
she  did  not  hate  him  deadly,  she  would  love  him  dearly: 
the  old  man's  daughter  told  us  all. 

Claudia*  All,  all ;  and,  moreover,  God  saw  him  when  he 
was  hid  in  the  garden. 

Don  Pedro.  But  when  shall  we  set  the  savage  bull's  horns 
on  the  sensible  Benedick's  head  ? 

Claudio.  Yea,  and  text  underneath,  'Here  dwells  Benedick 
the  married  man  ?'  176 

Benedick.  Fare  you  well,  boy  ;  you  know  my  mind.  I  will 
leave  you  now  to  your  gossip-like  humour ;  you  break  jests 
as  braggarts  do  their  blades,  which,  God  be  thanked,  hurt 
not. — My  lord,  for  your  many  courtesies  I  thank  you;  I 
must  discontinue  your  company :  your  brother  the  bastard 
is  fled  from  Messina  \  you  have  among  you  killed  a  sweet 
and  innocent  lady.  For  my  Lord  Lackbeard  there,  he  and 
I  shall  meet ;  and,  till  then,  peace  be  with  him.  \Exit. 

Don  Pedro.  He  is  in  earnest.  185 

Claudio.  In  most  profound  earnest ;  and,  I  '11  warrant  you, 
for  the  fove  of  Beatrice. 

Don  Pedro.  And  hath  challenged  thee. 

Claudio.  Most  sincerely. 

Don  Pedro.  What  a  pretty  thing  man  is  when  he  goes  in 
his  doublet  and  hose. and  leaves  off. his  wit!  191 

Claudio.  He  is  then  a  giant  to  an  ape  ;  but  then  is  an  ape 
a  doctor  to  such  a  man. 

Don  Pedro.  But,  soft  you,  let  me  be  ;  pluck  up,  my  heart, 
and  be  sad.  Did  he  not  say,  my  brother  was  fled  ? 


102 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


Enter  DOGBERRY,  VERGES,  and  the  Watch,  with  CONRADE 
and  BORACHIO. 

Dogberry.  Come  you,  sir;  if  justice  cannot  tame  you,  she 
shall  ne'er  weigh  more  reasons  in  her  balance  :  nay,  an  you 
be  a  cursing  hypocrite  once,  you  must  be  looked  to. 

Don  Pedro.  How  now  ?  two  of  my  brother's  men  bound  ! 
Borachio  one !  200 

Claudio.  Hearken  after  their  offence,  my  lord. 

Don  Pedro.  Officers,  what  offence  have  these  men  done  ? 

Dogberry.  Marry,  sir,  they  have  committed  false  report ; 
moreover,  they  have  spoken  untruths ;  secondarily,  they  are 
slanders ;  sixth  and  lastly,  they  have  belied  a  lady ;  thirdly, 
they  have  verified  unjust  things ;  and,  to  conclude,  they  are 
lying  knaves. 

Don  Pedro.  First,  I  ask  thee  what  they  have  done  ;  third- 
ly, I  ask  thee  what  's  their  offence ;  sixth  and  lastly,  why 
they  are  committed  ;  and,  to  conclude,  what  you  lay  to  their 
charge.  211 

Claudio.  Rightly  reasoned,  and  in  his  own  division ;  and, 
by  my  troth,  there  's  one  meaning  well  suited. 

Don  Pedro.  Who  have  you  offended,  masters,  that  you  are 
thus  bound  to  your  answer?  this  learned  constable  is  too 
cunning  to  be  understood  :  what 's  your  offence  ? 

Borachio.  Sweet  prince,  let  me  go  no  farther  to  mine  an- 
swer ;  do  you  hear  me,  and  let  this  count  kill  me.  I  have 
deceived  even  your  very  eyes :  what  your  wisdoms  could  not 
discover,  these  shallow  fools  have  brought  to  light;  who  in 
the  night  overheard  me  confessing  to  this  man  how  Don 
John  your  brother  incensed  me  to  slander  the  Lady  Hero, 
how  you  were  brought  into  the  orchard  and  saw  me  court 
Margaret  in  Hero's  garments,  how  you  disgraced  her  when 
you  should  marry  her.  My  villany  they  have  upon  record  ; 
which  I  had  rather  seal  with  my  death  than  repeat  over  to 
my  shame.  The  lady  is  dead  upon  mine  and  my  master's 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 


103 


false  accusation  ;  and,  briefly,  I  desire  nothing  but  the  re- 
ward of  a  villain.  229 

Don  Pedro.  Runs  not  this  speech  like  iron  through  your 
blood  ? 

Claudia.  I  have  drunk  poison  whiles  he  utter'd  it. 

Don  Pedro.  But  did  my  brother  set  thee  on  to  this  ? 

Borachio.  Yea,  and  paid  me  richly  for  the  practice  of  it. 

Don  Pedro.  He  is  compos'd  and  fram'd  of  treachery  ; 
And  fled  he  is  upon  this  villany. 

Claudia.  Sweet  Hero  !  now  thy  image  doth  appear 
In  the  rare  semblance  that  I  lov'd  it  first. 

Dogberry.  Come,  bring  away  the  plaintiffs ;  by  this  time 
our  sexton  hath  reformed  Signior  Leonato  of  the  matter; 
and,  masters,  do  not  forget  to  specify,  when  time  and  place 
shall  serve,  that  I  am  an  ass.  241 

Verges.  Here,  here  comes  master  Signior  Leonato,  and 
the  sexton  too. 

Re-enter  LEONATO  and  ANTONIO,  with  the  Sexton. 

Leonato.  Which  is  the  villain  ?  let  me  see  his  eyes, 
That,  when  I  note  another  man  like  him, 
I  may  avoid  him ;  which  of  these  is  he  ? 

Borachio.  If  you  would  know  your  wronger,  look  on  me. 

Leonato.  Art  thou  the  slave  that  with  thy  breath  hast  kill'd 
Mine  innocent  child  ? 

Borachio.  Yea,  even  I  alone. 

Leonato.  No,  not  so,  villain  ;  thou  beliest  thyself:  250 

Here  stand  a  pair  of  honourable  men ; 
A  third  is  fled,  that  had  a  band  in  it. 
I  thank  you,  princes,  for  my  daughter's  death  : 
Record  it  with  your  high  and  worthy  deeds ; 
'T  was  bravely  done,  if  you  bethink  you  of  it. 

Claudia.  I  know  not  how  to  pray  your  patience ; 
Yet  I  must  speak.  Choose  your  revenge  yourself; 
Impose  me  to  what  penance  your  invention 


104 


MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 


Can  lay  upon  my  sin  :  yet  sinn'd  I  not 
But  in  mistaking. 

Don  Pedro.  By  my  soul,  nor  I ;  260 

And  yet,  to  satisfy  this  good  old  man, 
I  would  bend  under  any  heavy  weight 
That  he  '11  enjoin  me  to. 

Leonato.  I  cannot  bid  you  bid  my  daughter  live; 
That  were  impossible  :  but,  I  pray  you  both, 
Possess  the  people  in  Messina  here 
How  innocent  she  died  ;  and  if  your  love 
Can  labour  aught  in  sad  invention, 
Hang  her  an  epitaph  upon  her  tomb 

And  sing  it  to  her  bones,  sing  it  to-night.  270 

To-morrow  morning  come  you  to  my  house, 
And  since  you  could  not  be  my  son-in-law, 
Be  yet  my  nephew  :  my  brother  hath  a  daughter, 
Almost  the  copy  of  my  child  that  's  dead, 
And  she  alone  is  heir  to  both  of  us  ; 
Give  her  the  right  you  should  have  given  her  cousin, 
And  so  dies  my  revenge. 

Claudio.  O  noble  sir, 

Your  over-kindness  doth  wring  tears  from  me ! 
I  do  embrace  your  offer ;  and  dispose 
For  henceforth  of  poor  Claudio.  280 

Leonato.  To-morrow  then  I  will  expect  your  coming ; 
To-night  I  take  my  leave.     This  naughty  man 
Shall  face  to  face  be  brought  to  Margaret, 
Who  I  believe  was  pack'd  in  all  this  wrong, 
Hir'd  to  it  by  your  brother.          . 

Borachio.  No,  by  my  soul,  she  was  not, 

Nor  knew  not  what  she  did  when  she  spoke  to  me, 
But  always  hath  been  just  and  virtuous 
In  any  thing  that  I  do  know  by  her.  288 

Dogberry.  Moreover,  sir,  which  indeed  is  not  under  white 
and  black,  this  plaintiff  here,  the  offender,  did  call  me  ass  ;  I 


ACT  V.     SCENE   IL  105 

beseech  you,  let  it  be  remembered  in  his  punishment.  And 
also,  the  watch  heard  them  talk  of  one  Deformed  ;  they  say 
he  wears  a  key  in  his  ear  and  a  lock  hanging  by  it,  and  bor- 
rows money  in  God's  name,  the  which  he  hath  used  so  long 
and  never  paid  that  now  men  grow  hard-hearted  and  will 
lend  nothing  for  God's  sake  :  pray  you,  examine  him  upon 
that  point. 

Leonato.  I  thank  thee  for  thy  care  and  honest  pains. 

Dogberry.  Your  worship  speaks  like  a  most  thankful  and 
reverend  youth  ;  and  I  praise  God  for  you.  300 

Leonato.  There  's  for  thy  pains. 

Dogberry.  God  save  the  foundation  ! 

Leonato.  Go,  I  discharge  thee  of  thy  prisoner,  and  I  thank 
thee. 

Dogberry.  I  leave  an  arrant  knave  with  your  worship ; 
which  I  beseech  your  worship  to  correct  yourself,  for  the 
example  of  others.  God  keep  your  worship !  I  wish  your 
worship  well ;  God  restore  you  to  health  !  I  humbly  give 
you  leave  to  depart :  and  if  a  merry  meeting  may  be  wished, 
God  prohibit  it ! — Come,  neighbour.  3io 

\Exeunt  Dogberry  and  Verges. 

Leonato.  Until  to-morrow  morning,  lords,  farewell. 

Antonio.  Farewell,  my  lords ;  we  look  for  you  to-morrow. 

Don  Pedro.  We  will  not  fail. 

Claudia.  To-night  I  '11  mourn  with  Hero. 

Leonato.   \To  the   Watch}  Bring  you   these  fellows  on. — 
We  '11  talk  with  Margaret, 
How  her  acquaintance  grew  with  this  lewd  fellow. 

[Exeunt,  severally. 

SCENE  II.     Leonato's  Orchard. 
Enter  BENEDICK  and  MARGARET,  meeting. 

Benedick.  Pray  thee,  sweet  Mistress  Margaret,  deserve 
well  at  my  hands  by  helping  me  to  the  speech  of  Beatrice. 


106  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Margaret  Will  you  then  write  me  a  sonnet  in  praise  of 
my  beauty  ? 

Benedick.  In  so  high  a  style,  Margaret,  that  no  man  living 
shall  come  over  it ;  for,  in  most  comely  truth,  thou  deservest  it. 

Margaret.  To  have  no  man  come  over  me  !  why,  shall  I 
always  keep  below  stairs  ? 

Benedick.  Thy  wit  is  as  quick  as  the  greyhound's  mouth ; 
it  catches.  10 

Margaret.  And  yours  as  blunt  as  the  fencer's  foils,  which 
hit,  but  hurt  not. 

Benedick.  A  most  manly  wit,  Margaret  j  it  will  not  hurt  a 
woman  ;  and  so,  I  pray  thee,  call  Beatrice  :  I  give  thee  the 
bucklers. 

Margaret.  Give  us  the  swords ;  we  have  bucklers  of  our 
own. 

Benedick.  If  you  use  them,  Margaret,  you  must  put  in  the 
pikes  with  a  vice ;  and  they  are  dangerous  weapons  for 
maids.  20 

Margaret.  Well,  I  will  call  Beatrice  to  you,  who  I  think 
hath  legs. 

Benedick.  And  therefore  will  come.  \Exit  Margaret. 

[Sings]  The  god  of  love, 

That  sits  above, 
And  knows  me,  and  knows  me, 

How  pitiful  I  deserve, —  27 

I  mean  in  singing ;  but  in  loving,  Leander  the  good  swim- 
mer, Troilus  the  first  employer  of  panders,  and  a  whole  book- 
ful  of  these  quondam  carpet-mongers,  whose  names  yet  run 
smoothly  in  the  even  road  of  a  blank  verse,  why,  they  were 
never  so  truly  turned  over  and  over  as  my  poor  self  in  love. 
Marry,  I  cannot  show  it  in  rhyme  ;  I  have  tried  :  I  can  find 
out  no  rhyme  to  Mady '  but  'baby,'  an  innocent  rhyme  ;  for 
'  scorn/  '  horn,'  a  hard  rhyme  ;  for  ( school,' '  fool,'  a  babbling 
rhyme  ;  very  ominous  endings :  no,  I  was  not  born  under  a 
rhyming  planet,  nor  I  cannot  woo  in  festival  terms. — 


ACT  V.     SCENE  II.  107 

Enter  BEATRICE. 

Sweet  Beatrice,  wouldst  thou  come  when  I  called  thee  ? 

Beatrice.  Yea,  signior,  and  depart  when  you  bid  me. 

Benedick.  O,  stay  but  till  then  !  40 

Beatrice.  '  Then  '  is  spoken  ;  fare  you  well  now :  and  yet, 
ere  I  go,  let  me  go  with  that  I  came ;  which  is,  with  knowing 
what  hath  passed  between  you  and  Claudio. 

Benedick.  Only  foul  words  ;  and  thereupon  I  will  kiss  thee. 

Beatrice.  Foul  words  is  but  foul  wind,  and  foul  wind  is  but 
foul  breath,  and  foul  breath  is  noisome  ;  therefore  I  will  de- 
part unkissed. 

Benedick.  Thou  hast  frightened  the  word  out  of  his  right 
sense,  so  forcible  is  thy  wit.  But  I  must  tell  thee  plainly, 
Claudio  undergoes  my  challenge;  and  either  I  must  shortly 
hear  from  him,  or  I  will  subscribe  him  a  coward.  And,  I 
pray  thee  now,  tell  me  for  which  of  my  bad  parts  didst 
thou  first  fall  in  love  with  me?  53 

Beatrice.  For  them  all  together ;  which  maintained  so 
politic  a  state  of  evil  that  they  will  not  admit  any  good 
part  to  intermingle  with  them.  But  for  which  of  my  good 
parts  did  you  first  suffer  love  for  me  ? 

Benedick.  Suffer  love  !  a  good  epithet !  I  do  suffer  love  in- 
deed, for  I  love  thee  against  my  will. 

Beatrice.  In  spite  of  your  heart,  I  think  ;  alas,  poor  heart ! 
If  you  spite  it  for  my  sake,  I  will  spite  it  for  yours ;  for  I 
will  never  love  that  which  my  friend  hates.  62 

Benedick.  Thou  and  I  are  too  wise  to  woo  peaceably. 

Beatrice.  It  appears  not  in  this  confession  ;  there  's  not 
one  wise  man  among  twenty  that  will  praise  himself. 

Benedick.  An  old,  an  old  instance,  Beatrice,  that  lived 
in  the  time  of  good  neighbours.  If  a  man  do  not  erect  in 
this  age  his  own  tomb  ere  he  dies,  he  shall  live  no  longer  in 
monument  than  the  bell  rings  and  the  widow  weeps. 

Beatrice.  And  how  long  is  that,  think  you  ?  70 


io8  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Benedick.  Question :  why,  an  hour  in  clamour  and  a  quar- 
ter in  rheum  ;  therefore  is  it  most  expedient  for  the  wise,  if 
Don  Worm,  his  conscience,  find  no  impediment  to  the  con- 
trary, to  be  the  trumpet  of  his  own  virtues,  as  I  am  to  my- 
self. So  much  for  praising  myself,  who,  I  myself  will  bear 
witness,  is  praiseworthy ;  and  now  tell  me,  how  doth  your 
cousin  ? 

Beatrice.  Very  ill. 

Benedick.  And  how  do  you  ? 

Beatrice.  Very  ill  too.  80 

Benedick.  Serve  God,  love  me,  and  mend.  There  will  I 
leave  you  too,  for  here  comes  one  in  haste. 

Enter  URSULA. 

Ursula.  Madam,  you  must  come  to  your  uncle.  Yonder  's 
old  coil  at  home  :  it  is  proved  my  Lady  Hero  hath  been 
falsely  accused,  the  prince  and  Claudio  mightily  abused ; 
and  Don  John  is  the  author  of  all,  who  is  fled  and  gone. 
Will  you  come  presently  ? 

Beatrice.  Will  you  go  hear  this  news,  signior?  88 

Benedick.  I  will  live  in  thy  heart,  die  in  thy  lap,  and  be 

buried  in   thy  eyes ;  and  moreover  I  will   go  with  thee  to 

thy  uncle's.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III.     A  Church. 
Enter  DON  PEDRO,  CLAUDIO,  and  three  or  four  with  tapers. 

Claudio.  Is  this  the  monument  of  Leonato? 

A  Lord.  It  is,  my  lord. 

Claudio.  [Reading  out  of  a  scroll] 

Done  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues 

Was  the  Hero  that  here  lies  ; 
Death,  in  guerdon  of  her  wrongs, 

Gives  her  fame  which  never  dies. 
So  the  life  that  died  with  shame 
Lives  in  death  with  glorious  fame.  8 


ACT   V.    SCENE  IV.  109 

Hang  thou  there  upon  the  tomb,  {Affixing  it. 

Praising  her  when  I  am  dumb. 
Now,  music,  sound,  and  sing  your  solemn  hymn. 

Song. 

Pardon,  goddess  of  the  night. 
Those  that  slew  thy  virgin  knight ; 
For  the  which,  with  songs  of  woe, 
Round  about  her  tomb  they  go. 

Midnight,  assist  our  moan  ; 

Help  us  to  sigh  and  groan, 
Heavily,  heavily : 

Graves,  yawn  and  yield  your  dead, 

Till  death  be  uttered,  20 

Heavily,  heavily. 

Claudia.       Now,  unto  thy  bones  good  night ! 

Yearly  will  I  do  this  rite. 
Don  Pedro.  Good  morrow,  masters  ;  put  your  torches  out : 

The  wolves  have  prey'd  ;  and  look,  the  gentle  day, 
Before  the  wheels  of  Phoebus,  round  about 

Dapples  the  drowsy  east  with  spots  of  grey. 
Thanks  to  you  all,  and  leave  us  ;  fare  you  well. 

Claudia.  Good  morrow,  masters ;  each  his  several  way. 
Don  Pedro.  Come,  let  us  hence,  and  put  on  other  weeds  ;   30 

And  then  to  Leonato's  we  will  go. 
Claudia.  And  Hymen  now  with  luckier  issue  speed  's 

Than  this  for  whom  we  render'd  up  this  woe !       [Exeunt. 

SCENE  IV.     A  Room  in  Leonato's  House. 

Enter  LEONATO,  ANTONIO,  BENEDICK,  BEATRICE,  MARGARET, 

URSULA,  FRIAR  FRANCIS,  and  HERO. 

Friar  Francis.  Did  I  not  tell  you  she  was  innocent  ? 
Leonato.  So  are  the  prince  and  Claudio,  who  accus'd  her 
Upon  the  error  that  you  heard  debated  ; 


no  MUCH  ADO  ABOU7*  NOTHING. 

But  Margaret  was  in  some  fault  for  this, 
Although  against  her  will,  as  it  appears 
In  the  true  course  of  all  the  question. 

Antonio.  Well,  I  am  glad  that  all  things  sort  so  well. 

Benedick.  And  so  am  I,  being  else  by  faith  enforc'd 
To  call  young  Claudio  to  a  reckoning  for  it. 

Leonato.  Well,  daughter,  and  you  gentlewomen  all,  10 

Withdraw  into  a  chamber  by  yourselves, 
And  when  I  send  for  you,  come  hither  mask'd. 

\Exeunt  Ladies. 

The  prince  and  Claudio  promis'd  by  this  hour 
To  visit  me. — You  know  your  office,  brother  : 
You  must  be  father  to  your  brother's  daughter, 
And  give  her  to  young  Claudio. 

Antonio.  Which  I  will  do  with  confirirTd  countenance. 

Benedick.  Friar,  I  must  entreat  your  pains,  I  think. 

Friar  Francis.  To  do  what,  signior  ? 

Benedick.  To  bind  me,  or  undo  me  ;  one  of  them. —        20 
Signior  Leonato,  truth  it  is,  good  signior, 
Your  niece  regards  me  with  an  eye  of  favour. 

Leonato.  That  eye  my  daughter  lent  her ;  't  is  most  true. 

Benedick.  And  I  do  with  an  eye  of  love  requite  her. 

Leonato.  The  sight  whereof  I  think  you  had  from  me, 
From  Claudio,  and  the  prince  ;  but  what  's  your  will  ? 

Benedick.  Your  answer,  sir,  is  enigmatical ; 
But,  for  my  will,  my  will  is  your  good  will 
May  stand  with  ours,  this  day  to  be  conjoin'd 
In  the  state  of  honourable  marriage, —  34 

In  which,  good  friar,  I  shall  desire  your  help. 

Leonato.  My  heart  is  with  your  liking. 

Friar  Francis.  And  my  help. — 

Here  comes  the  prince  and  Claudio. 

Enter  DON  PEDRO  and  CLAUDIO,  and  two  or  three  others. 
Don  Pedro.  Good  morrow  to  this  fair  assembly. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  IV.  m 

Leonato.  Good  morrow,  prince  ;  good  morrow,  Claudio  : 
We  here  attend  you.     Are  you  yet  determin'd 
To-day  to  marry  with  my  brother's  daughter? 

Claudio.  I  '11  hold  my  mind,  were  she  an  Ethiope. 

Leonato.  Call  her  forth,  brother ;  here  's  the  friar  ready. 

{Exit  Antonio. 

Don  Pedro.  Good   morrow,  Benedick.     Why,  what  's  the 
matter,  4o 

That  you  have  such  a  February  face, 
So  full  of  frost,  of  storm,  and  cloudiness  ? 

Claudio.  I  think  he  thinks  upon  the  savage  bull.— 
Tush,  fear  not,  man  ;  we  '11  tip  thy  horns  with  gold, 
And  all  Europa  shall  rejoice  at  thee, 
As  once  Europa  did  at  lusty  Jove, 
When  he  would  play  the  noble  beast  in  love. 

Benedick.  Bull  Jove,  sir,  had  an  amiable  low ; 
And  some  such  strange  bull  leap'd  your  father's  cow, 
And  got  a  calf  in  that  same  noble  feat  5o 

Much  like  to  you,  for  you  have  just  his  bleat. 

Claudio.  For  this  I  owe  you ;  here  comes  other  reckon- 
ings.— 

Re-enter  ANTONIO,  with  the  Ladies  masked. 
WThich  is  the  lady  I  must  seize  upon  ? 

Antonio.  This  same  is  she,  and  I  do  give  you  her. 
Claudio.  Why,  then  she  's  mine.— Sweet,  let  me  see  your 

face. 

Leonato.  No,  that  you  shall  not,  till  you  take  her  hand 
Before  this  friar  and  swear  to  marry  her. 

Claudio.  Give  me  your  hand ;  before  this  holy  friar, 
•  I  am  your  husband,  if  you  like  of  me. 

Hero.  And  when  I  liv'd,  I  was  your  other  wife ;  60 

[  Unmasking. 

And  when  you  lov'd,  you  were  my  other  husband. 
Claudio.  Another  Hero ! 


H2  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Hero.  Nothing  certainer; 

One  Hero  died  defil'd,  but  I  do  live, 
And  surely  as  I  live,  I  am  a  maid. 

Don  Pedro.  The  former  Hero  !     Hero  that  is  dead  ! 

Leonato.  She  died,  my  lord,  but  whiles  her  slander  liv'd. 

Friar  Francis.  All  this  amazement  can  I  qualify  ; 
When  after  that  the  holy  rites  are  ended, 
I  '11  tell  you  largely  of  fair  Hero's  death. 
Meantime  let  wonder  seem  familiar,  7o 

And  to  the  chapel  let  us  presently. 

Benedick.  Soft  and  fair,  friar. — Which  is  Beatrice  ? 

Beatrice.  \Unmasking\  1  answer  to  that  name.     What  is 
your  will  ? 

Benedick.  Do  not  you  love  me  ? 

Beatrice.  Why,  no  ;  no  more  than  reason. 

Benedick.   Why,   then    your    uncle    and   the    prince    and 

Claudio 
Have  been  deceiv'd ;  they  swore  you  did. 

Beatrice.  Do  not  you  love  me  ? 

Benedick.  Troth,  no  ;  no  more  than  reason. 

Beatrice.  Why,  then  my  cousin  Margaret  and  Ursula 
Are  much  deceiv'd  ;  for  they  did  swear  you  did. 

Benedick.  They    swore    that   you    were    almost    sick    for 
me.  80 

Beatrice.  They  swore  that  you  were  well-nigh  dead  for 
me. 

Benedick.  'T  is  no  such  matter. — Then  you  do  not  love 
me? 

Beatrice.  No,  truly,  but  in  friendly  recompense. 

Leonato.   Come,  cousin,  I  am   sure   you   love  the  gentle- 
man. 

Claudio.  And  I  '11  be  sworn  upon  't  that  he  loves  her ; 
For  here  's  a  paper  written  in  his  hand, 
A  halting  sonnet  of  his  own  pure  brain, 
Fashion'd  to  Beatrice. 


ACT   V.     SCENE  IV.  113 

Hero.  And  here  's  another 

Writ  in  my  cousin's  hand,  stolen  from  her  pocket, 
Containing  her  affection  unto  Benedick.  90  j 

Benedick.  A  miracle  !  here  's  our  own  hands  against  our  [ 
hearts. — Come,  I  will  have  thee ;  but,  by  this  light,  I  take 
thee  for  pity. 

Beatrice.  I  would  not  deny  you ;  but,  by  this  good  day,  I  \ 
yield  upon  great  persuasion;  and  partly  to  save  your  life, 
for  I  was  told  you  were  in  a  consumption.  96/ 

Benedick.  Peace  !  I  will  stop  your  mouth.        [Kissing  her. 

Don  Pedro.  How  dost  thou,  Benedick,  the  married  man  ? 

Benedick.  I  '11  tell  thee  what,  prince ;  a  college  of  wit- 
crackers  cannot  flout  me  out  of  my  humour.  Dost  thou 
think  I  care  for  a  satire  or  an  epigram  ?  No  ;  if  a  man  will 
be  beaten  with  brains,  he  shall  wear  nothing  handsome  about 
him.  In  brief,  since  I  do  purpose  to  marry,  I  will  think 
nothing  to  any  purpose  that  the  world  can  say  against  it ; 
and  therefore  never  flout  at  me  for  what  I  have  said  against 
it;  for  man  is  a  giddy  thing,  and  this  is  my  conclusion. — 
For  thy  part,  Claudio,  I  did  think  to  have  beaten  thee ;  but 
in  that  thou  art  like  to  be  my  kinsman,  live  unbruised  and 
love  my  cousin.  109 

Claudio.  I  had  well  hoped  thou  wouldst  have  denied  Bea- 
trice, that  I  might  have  cudgelled  thee  out  of  thy  single  life, 
to  make  thee  a  double-dealer ;  which,  out  of  question,  thou 
wilt  be,  if  my  cousin  do  not  look  exceeding  narrowly  to 
thee. 

Benedick.  Come,  come,  we  are  friends  ;  let 's  have  a  dance 
ere  we  are  married,  that  we  may  lighten  our  own  hearts  and 
our  wives'  heels.  . 

Leonato.  We  '11  have  dancing  afterward. 

Benedick.  First,  of  my  word  ;  therefore  play,  music. — 
Prince,  thou  art  sad  ;  get  thee  a  wife,  get  thee  a  wife  : 
there  is  no  staff  more  reverend  than  one*  tipped  with 
horn. 

H 


1 14  MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTHING. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Messenger.  My  lord,  your  brother  John  is  ta'en  in  flight, 
And  brought  with  armed  men  back  to  Messina.  124 

Benedick.  Think  not  on  him  till  to-morrow,;   I  '11  devise 
thee  brave  punishments  for  him. — Strike  up,  pipers.    [Dance. 

[Exeunt. 


ARIOSTO'S   INKSTAND. 


NOTES. 


ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  THE  NOTES. 

Abbott  (or  Gr.),  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (third  edition). 
A.  S.,  Anglo-Saxon. 

A.  V.,  Authorized  Version  of  the  Bible  (1611). 

B.  and  F.,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
B.  J.,  Ben  Jonson. 

Camb.  ed.,  "  Cambridge  edition"  of  Shakespeare,  edited  by  Clark  and  Wright. 
Cf.  (confer),  compare. 
Coll.,  Collier  (second  edition). 

Coll.  MS.,  Manuscript  Corrections  of  Second  Folio,  edited  by  Collier. 
D.,  Dyce  (second  edition). 
H.,  Hudson  (first  edition). 
Id.  (idem},  the  same. 

J.  H.,  John  Hunter's  edition  of  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  (London,  1872). 
K.,  Knight  (second  edition). 

Nares,  Glossary,  edited  by  Halliwell  and  Wright  (London,  1859). 
Prol.,  Prologue. 
S.,  Shakespeare. 

Schmidt,  A.  Schmidt's  Shakespeare- Lex  icon  (Berlin,  1874). 
Sr.,  Singer. 
St.,  Staunton. 
Theo.,  Theobald. 
W.,  White. 

Walker,  Wm.  Sidney  Walker's  Critical  Examination  of  the  Text  of  Shakespeare 
(London,  1860). 
Warb.,  Warburton. 

Wb.,  Webster's  Dictionary  (revised  quarto  edition  of  1864). 
Wore.,  Worcester's  Dictionary  (quarto  edition). 

The  abbreviations  of  the  names  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  will  be  readily  understood ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanus,  3  Hen.  VI.  for  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to  The  Passionate  Pilgrim  ;  V.  and  A .  to  Venus 
and  Adonis  ;  JL.  C.  to  Lover1 's  Complaint  ',  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

When  the  abbreviation  of  the  name  of  a  play  is  followed  by  a  reference  to  page, 
Rolfe's  edition  of  the  play  is  meant. 

The  numbers  of  the  lines  (except  for  Much  Ado)  are  those  of  the  "Globe"  ed.  or 
CrowelFs  reprint  of  that  ed. 


NOTES. 


ACT  I. 

SCENE  L— The  stage -direction  in  the  folio,  as  in  the  quarto,  reads 
"  Enter  Leonato  Goner nour  of  Messina,  Innogen  his  ivtfe"  etc.  ;  but  as 
Innogen  neither  speaks  nor  is  mentioned  during  the  play,  Theo.  dropped 
her  name  from  the  list  of  dramatis  persons.  As  he  suggests,  the  poet 
may  at  first  have  intended  to  introduce  her,  but  afterwards  decided  to 
leave  her  out. 

I.  Don  Pedro.  Both  the  quarto  and  the  folio  have  "Don  Peter  "  here 
and  in  9  below,  but  elsewhere  "  Don  Pedro." 

3.  By  this.  Cf.  Macb.  iii.  i.  26 :  "  'Twixt  this  and  supper ;"  Lear,  i. 
I.  118:  "  from  this  for  ever,"  etc. 


uS  NOTES. 

7.  Sort.     Possibly =rank  (Schmidt),  as  in  29  below.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  7. 
142,  iv.  8.  80,  etc. 

8.  Achiever.     Used  by  S.  nowhere  else. 

16.  JF/7/  be.     For  the  omission  of  the  relative,  see  Gr.  244. 
Very  much  glad.     We  should  not  now  use  this  expression,  though  we 
say  "  very  much  pleased,"  "  very  much  delighted,"  etc. 

19.  Joy  could  not,  etc.     "  Of  all  the  transports  of  joy,  that  which  is  at- 
tended with  tears  is  least  offensive  ;  because,  carrying  with  it  this  mark 
of  pain,  it  allays  the  envy  that  usually  attends  another's  happiness.     This 
he  finely  calls  a  modest  joy,  such  an  one  as  did  not  insult  the  observer 
by  an  indication  of  happiness  unmixed  with  pain"  (Warb.).     Capell  says 
that  the  joy  "  wore  the  modestest  garb  that  joy  can  do,  that  is,  silence  ' 
and  tears." 

20.  Badge.     Steevens  compares  Chapman,  Odyssey,  x.  : 

"  our  eyes  wore 

The  same  wet  badge  of  weak  humanity ;" 
and  Macb.  i.  4.  33  : 

"  My  plenteous  joys, 

Wanton  in  fulness,  seek  to  hide  themselves 
In  drops  of  sorrow." 

23.  Kind.     Natural  (Schmidt).     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1423:   "Conceit  deceit- 

.  ful,  so  compact,  so  kind."     Kindness  —  tenderness.     Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  I.  41  : 

"  my  bosom  is  full  of  kindness,  and  I  am  yet  so  near  the  manners  of  my 

mother  that  upon  the  least  occasion  more  mine  eyes  will  tell  tales  of  me." 

26.  Montanto.  A  term  in  fencing,  meaning,  according  to  Cotgrave, 
'*  an  upright  blow  or  thrust."  Cf.  M.  W.  ii.  3.  27  :  "  thy  punto,  thy  stock, 
thy-reverse,  thy  distance,  thy  montant."  Steevens  cites  B.  J.,  Every 
Alan  in  his  Humour:  "your  punto,  your  reverso,  your  stoccata,  your 
imbrocata,  your  passada,  your  montanto,"  etc. 

29.  Sort.     See  on  7  above. 

30.  What.     Who;  as  often,  "but  only  in  the  predicate"  (Schmidt). 
Cf.  Temp.  v.  I.  185  :  "  What  is  this  maid?"     See  also  Ham.  p.  253  and 
cf.  Gr.  254. 

32.  Pleasant.  Facetious.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  \.  2.  259  :  "  We  are  glad  the 
Dauphin  is  so  pleasant  with  us"  (see  also  281);  M.  for  M.  iii.  2.  120: 
"  You  are  pleasant,  sir,"  etc. 

34.  Set  up  his  bills.  That  is,  posted  his  challenge,  like  a  prize-fighter. 
Steevens  quotes  B.  J.,  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour :  "  I  have  set  up 
my  bills  without  discovery  ;"  and  Nash,  Have  With  You,  etc. :  "setting 
up  bills,  like  a  bearward  or  fencer,  what  fights  we  shall  have,  and  what 
weapons  she  will  meet  me  at."  He  also  gives  this  extract  from  an  old 
MS.  :  "  Item  a  challenge  playde  before  the  King's  majestic  [Edward  VI.] 
at  Westminster,  by  three  maisters,  Willyam  Pascall,  Robert  Greene,  and 
W.  Browne,  at  seven  kynde  of  weapons.  That  is  to. say,  the  axe,  the 
pike,  the  rapier  and  target,  the  rapier  and  cloke,  and  with  two  swords, 
agaynst  all  alyens  and  strangers  being  borne  without  the  King's  domin- 
ions, of  what  countrie  so  ever  he  or  they  were,  geving  them  warninge  by 
theyr  bills  set  up  by  the  three  maisters,  the  space  of  eight  weeks  before 
the  sayd  challenge  was  playde  ;  and  it  was  holclen  four  severall  Sun- 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I.  II9 

dayes  one  after  another."  It  appears  from  the  same  work  that  all  chal- 
lenges "to  any  maister  within  the  realme  of  Englande  being  an  Englishe 
man  "  were  against  the  rules  of  the  "  Noble  Science  of  Defence."  Saint 
Paul's  was  a  place  where  these  bills  or  advertisements  were  much  post- 
ed. Nash,  in  his  Pierce  Pennilesse,  speaks  of  "  maisterlesse  men  that 
set  up  theyr  bills  in  Paules  for  services,  and  such  as  paste  up  theyr 
papers  on  every  post  for  arithmetique  and  writing  schooles." 

35.  Flight.  That  is,  shooting  with  the  flight,  a  kind  of  long  and  light- 
feathered  arrow  used  for  great  distances.  S.  uses  the  word  in  this  sense 
only  here,  but  it  is  common  in  writers  of  the  time.  Cf.  B.  and  F.,  Bon- 
duca:  "not  a  flight  drawn  home;"  Middleton,  Game  of  Chess:  "dis- 
charg'd  it  like  a  flight,"  etc. 

37.  Bird-bolt.  A  short,  thick,  blunt-headed  arrow,  shot  from  a  cross- 
bow and  used  to  kill  rooks  with.  Cf.  Marston,  What  You  Will: 

"ignorance  should  shoot 
His  gross-knobb' d  bird-bolt." 

Douce  says  :  "  The  meaning  of  the  whole  is — Benedick,  from  a  vain  con- 
ceit of  his  influence  over  women,  challenged  Cupid  at  roving  (a  particu- 
lar kind  of  archery  in  which  flight- arrows  are  used) ;  in  other  words,  he 
challenged  him  to  shoot  at  hearts.  The  fool,  to  ridicule  this  piece  of  van- 
ity, in  his  turn  challenged  Benedick  to  shoot  at  crows  with  the  cross-bow 
and  bird-bolt ;  an  inferior  kind  of  archery  used  by  fools,  who,  for  obvious 
reasons,  were  not  permitted  to  shoot  with  pointed  arrows :  whence  the 
proverb, '  A  fool's  bolt  is  soon  shot.'  "  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  v.  4.  67  and  Hen.  V. 
iii.  7.  132.  See  also  L.  L  L.  iv.  3.  25  and  T.  N.  i.  5.  100. 

39.  To  eat,  etc.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  iii.  7.  99  : 

"  Rambures.  He  longs  to  eat  the  English. 
Constable.   I  think  he  will  eat  all  he  kills." 

40.  Tax.     Reproach,  inveigh  against.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  71,  86,  Ham. 
i.  4.  1 8,  iii.  3.  29,  etc. 

41.  Meet  with  you.     Even  with  you,  a  match  for  you.     Steevens  says 
that  the  expression  is  common  in  the  midland  counties,  and  quotes  Hol- 
iday, T€%roy«juia,  1618  :  "Go  meet  her,  or  else  she  '11  be  meet  with  me." 

43.  Victual.     Elsewhere  S.  uses  the  plural.     Bacon  has  both  "Vict- 
ual "  and  "  Victuals  "  in  Essay  xxxiii.     Cf.  Exod.  xii.  39  and  Josh.  i.  n. 

Holp.  S.  uses  both  helped  and  holp  as  past  tense  and  as  participle. 
For  the  former  use  of 'holp,  see  K.  John,  i.  i.  240,  Cor.  v.  3.  63,  etc. ;  and 
for  the  latter,  Temp.  i.  2.  63,  Rich.  II.  v.  5.  62,  Macb.  \.  6.  23,  etc.  We 
find  holpen  in  Ps.  Ixxxiii.  8,  Dan.  xi.  34,  etc. 

44.  Trencher-man.     Cf.  trencher-friend  ( —  parasite)  in  T.  of  A.  iii.  6. 
1 06,  and  trencher -knight  (—  waiter)  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  464  (cf.  476)  ;  also 
Lodge,  Wifs  Miserie,  1596  :  "  His  doublet  is  of  cast  satten  cut  sometime 
upon  taifata,  but  that  the  bumbast  hath  eaten  through  it,  and  spotted 
here  and  there  with  pure  fat  to  testifie  that  he  is  a  good  trencher-man." 

49.  Stuffed.  Fully  endowed.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  183  :  "  Stuff 'd,  as 
they  say,  with  honourable  parts;"  and  W.  T.  ii.  i.  185  :  "of  stuff 'd  suffi- 
ciency." Edwards  observes  that  Mecle,  in  his  Discourses  on  Scripture, 
speaks  of  Adam  as  "he  whom  God  had  stuffed  with  so  many  excellent 
qualities."  Beatrice  uses  the  word  contemptuously  -  stuffed  out,  padded. 


120  NOTES. 

Farmer  says  that  a  stuffed  man  was  "  one  of  the  many  cant  phrases  for 
a  cuckold" 

52.  Stuffing.  Halliwell  says  :  "  Beatrice  seems  to  use  the  term  stuff- 
ing in  a  sense  analogous  to  the  Latin  vestis  fartum  ;  or,  possibly,  in  ref- 
erence to  his  mental  qualities." 

We  are  all  mortal.  One  of  the  affected  phrases  of  the  time.  Cf.  Sir 
Gyles  Goosecappe,  Knight,  1606 :  "  Sir  Gyles  Goosecap  has  always  a 
deathes  head  (as  it  were)  in  his  mouth,  for  his  onely  one  reason  for  ev- 
ery thing  is,  because  wee  are  all  mortall." 

57.  Five  wits.  The  wits,  or  intellectual  powers,  seem  to  have  been 
reckoned  as  five  to  correspond  with  the  five  senses,  which  were  also 
called  wits.  Cf.  Chaucer,  Persones  Tale :  "  the  five  wittis  ;  as  sight,  here- 
ing,  smelling,  savouring,  and  touching."  Boswell  quotes  a  prayer  by  Sir 
Thomas  More,  in  which  he  asks  to  be  forgiven  for  his  sins  "in  mispend- 
ing  of  my  five  wittes."  Schmidt  says  that  "the  proverbial  five  wits" 
were  "common  wit,  imagination,  fantasy,  estimation,  memory."  In 
Sonn.  141.  9  we  find  the  two  meanings  distinguished  : 

"  But  my  five  wits  nor  my  five  senses  can 
Dissuade  one  foolish  heart  from  serving  thee." 

59.  To  keep  himself  warm.  "To  have  wit  enough  to  keep  one's  self 
warm  "  was  a  common  proverb.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  ii.  I.  268  : 

"  Petruchio.  Am  1  not  wise  ? 
Katharina.  Yes  ;  keep  you  warm." 

Steevens  quotes  among  other  examples  of  the  phrase,  B.  J.,  Cynthia's  Rev- 
els: "your  whole  self  cannot  but  be  perfectly  wise ;  for  your  hands  have 
wit  .enough  to  keep  themselves  warm." 

Bear  it  for  a  difference.  That  is,  for  a  mark  of  distinction  ;  a  term  in 
heraldry.  Cf.  Ham.  iv.  5.  183  :  "you  must  wear  your  rue  with  a  differ" 
ence."  ' 

62.  Sworn  brother.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  208  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  199. 

64.  Faith.     That  is,  his  fidelity  as  a  friend. 

65.  Block.     Still  the  technical  term  for  the  wooden  model  on  which 
hats  are  shaped.     Cf.  Lear,  iv.  6.  187  :  "this'  a  good  block."     See  also 
Epigrammes  by  I.  D.,  1596  : 

"He  weares  a  hat  now  of  the  flat-crowne  blocke, 

The  treble  ruffes,  long  cloake,  and  doublet  French  ; 
He  takes  tobacco,  and  doth  weare  a  locke  ; 
And  wastes  more  time  in  dressing  then  a  wench  ;" 

and  Dekker,  Seven  Deadly  Sinnes  of  London,  1606 :  "the  blocke  for  his 
head  alters  faster  then  the  feltmaker  can  fitte  him,  and  thereupon  we  are 
called  in  scorne  blockheads." 

66.  Not  in  your  books.     Evidently  =  not  in  favour  with  you,  but  the 
origin  of  the  phrase  has  been  much  disputed.     Johnson  gives  it  "  to  be 
in  one's  codicils  or  will,  to  be  among  friends  set  down  for  legacies." 
Steevens  takes  the  books  to  be  memorandum-books,  or,  perhaps,  heraldic 
records  (cf.  T.  of  S.  ii.  I.  225).     Farmer  says  "  to  be  in  a  man's  books  orig- 
inally meant  to  be  in  the  list  of  his  retainers."     K.  explains  it  as  a  com- 
mercial allusion  =one  to  whom  you  give  credit.     Schmidt,  like  Steevens, 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I.  121 

decides  on  "books  of  memory"  (i  Hen.  VI.  ii.  4.  101  and  2  Hen.  VI.  i. 

1.  100),  which  seems  the  most  plausible  explanation. 

68.  Squarer.  Quarreller,  bully.  Cf.  square— quarrel  in  M.  N.  D.  ii.  I. 
30,  A.  and  C.  ii.  I.  45,  iii.  3.  41,  etc. 

74.  Presently.     Immediately ;  the  usual  meaning  in  S.     Cf.  Temp.  i. 

2.  125,  iv.  i.  42,  v.  i.  101,  etc. 

75.  A  thousand  pound.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  182. 

77.  Hold  friends  with  you.     Cf.  M.for  M.  i.  2.  185  : 

"  Implore  her  in  my  voice,  that  she  make  friends 
To  the  strict  deputy." 

89.  Charge.  Burden,  incumbrance  (Johnson).  Douce  thinks  it  means 
"  the  person  committed  to  your  care." 

94.  You  have  it  full.     Schmidt  explains  this  as  =  "you  are  the  man, 
you  will  do,"  and  compares  T.  of  S.  i.  i.  203  ;  but  it  seems  rather =you 
get  as  good  as  you  sent,  you  are  well  answered. 

95.  Fathers  herself.     Is  like  her  father ;  a  phrase  common  in  Dorset- 
shire (Steevens).     For  the  verb,  cf.  J.  C.  ii.  i.  297,  Macb.  iv.  2.  27,  etc. 

101.  Still.     Continually  ;  as  in  117  below.     Gr.  69. 

105.  Is  it  possible,  etc.  Steevens  compares  Cor.  ii.  I.  93  :  "  Our  very 
priests  must  become  mockers,  if  they  encounter  such  ridiculous  subjects 
as  you  are." 

107.  Convert.  For  the  intransitive  use,  cf.  R.  of  L.  592,  Macb.  iv.  3. 
229,  Rich.  II.  v.  I.  66,  v.  3.  64,  etc. 

109.  Of.     By.     Cf.  Macb.  iii.  6.  27,  etc.     Gr.  170. 

112.  A  dear  happiness.  True  good  luck.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  3.  28: 
"  This  is  dear  mercy." 

1 18.  Scape.  Not  "  'scape,"  as  often  printed.  See  Macb.  p.  214  or  Wb. 
s.  v. 

Predestinate  is  used  by  S.  nowhere  else.     For  the  form,  see  Gr.  342. 

121.    Were.     The  Coll.  MS.  omits  the  word. 

128.  A  jade's  trick.  Cf.  A.  W.  iv.  5.  64:  "If  I  put  any  tricks  upon 
'em,  sir,  they  shall  be  jade's  tricks  ;"  T.  and  C.  ii.  i.  21  :  "a  red  mur- 
rain o'  thy  jade's  tricks  !"  Tor  jade  =  3.  worthless  or  vicious  horse,  see 
V.  and  A.T&\,J.  C.  iv.  2.  26,  etc. 

139.  I  am  not  of  many  words.  Cf.  M.for  M.  ii.  I.  204:  "Are  you  of 
fourscore  pounds  a  year?"  Oth.  v.  i.  65  :  "Are  you  of  good  or  evil?" 
Sir  J.  Hawkins  says  :  "  The  poet  has  judiciously  marked  the  gloominess 
of  Don  John's  character  by  making  him  averse  to  the  common  forms  of 
civility." 

141.  Please  it  your  grace,  etc.  Will  it  please  your  grace,  etc.  Cf. 
Temp.  iii.  3.  42:  "Will  't  please  you  taste  of  what  is  here?"  The  to 
is  sometimes  inserted ;  as  in  iii.  5.  18  below :  "It  pleases  your  worship 
to  say  so,"  etc.  See  Gr.  349. 

149.  Tyrant.  That  is,  one  who  shows  no  mercy.  Cf.  M.for  M.  ii.  4. 
169  :  "  I  '11  prove  a  tyrant  to  him." 

162.  Sad.  Serious.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  227  :  "  Speak  sad  brow  and 
true  maid."  See  also  i.  3.  54  and  ii.  i.  307  below. 

Flouting -Jack.  Cf.  Temp.  iv.  i.  198  :  "  Monster,  your  fairy,  which  you 
say  is  a  harmless  fairy,  has  done  little  better  than  played  the  Jack  with 


122  NOTES. 

us."  We  \iZ.Mt  flout  ing-stock  (  —  laughing-stock)  in  M.  W.  iii.  I.  120  and 
iv.  5.  83.  Cf.  the  use  of flout  in  ii.  3.  132,  v.  i.  95,  and  v.  4.  100  below. 

To  tell  us  Cupid  is  a  good  hare-flnder,  etc.  This  puzzled  Johnson  and 
Steevens,  but  Toilet  explains  it :  "Do  you  scoff  and  mock  in  telling  us 
that  Cupid,  who  is  blind,  is  a  good  hare-finder,  which  requires  a  quick 
eye-sight ;  and  that  Vulcan,  a  blacksmith,  is  a  rare  carpenter  ?"  Schmidt 
suspects  a  double  meaning  in  hare-flnder. 

164.    Togo  in.     To  join  you  in. 

168.  No  such  matter.     Nothing  of  the  kind.     See  on  ii.  3.  198  below. 

169.  There  'j  her  cousin,  etc.     A  hint  of  the  half-liking  for  Beatrice 
which  is  hidden  under  Benedick's  depreciation  of  her. 

176.  With  suspicion.  That  is,  "on  account  of  the  horns  hidden  under 
it"  (Schmidt).  Cf.  212  and  232  below. 

179.  Sigh  away  Sundays.  "A  proverbial  expression  to  signify  that 
a  man  has  no  rest  at  all"  (Warb.) ;  or  more  probably,  as  Steevens  ex- 
plains it,  an  allusion  to  the  Puritanic  observance  of  Sunday. 

187.  With  who  ?  Cf.  "  To  who  ?"  in  Oth.  i.  2.  52,  Cymb.  iv.  2.  75,  etc. 
Gr.  274. 

189.  If  this  were  so,  etc.     "  If  this  were  the  truth,  so  it  would  be  ut- 
tered" (J.  H.). 

190.  Like  the  old  tale,  etc.    Mr.  Blake  way  gives  this  old  tale  as  he  heard 
it  in  childhood  from  his  great  aunt:  "Once  upon  a  time,  there  was  a 
young  lady  (called  Lady  Mary  in  the  story),  who  had  two  brothers.     One 
summer  they  all  three  went  to  a  country-seat  of  theirs,  which  they  had 
not  before  visited.     Among  the  other  gentry  in  the  neighbourhood,  who 
came  to  see  them,  was  a  Mr.  Fox,  a  bachelor,  with  whom  they,  particu- 
larly "the  young  lady,  were  much  pleased.     He  used  often  to  dine  with 
them,  and  frequently  invited  Lady  Mary  to  come  and  see   his  house. 
One  day  that  her  brothers  were  absent  elsewhere,  and  she  had  nothing 
better  to  do,  she  determined  to  go  thither,  and  accordingly  set  out  unat- 
tended.    When  she  arrived  at  the  house  and  knocked  at  the  door,  no 
one  answered.     At  length  she  opened  it,  and  went  in.     Over  the  portal 
of  the  hall  was  written,  '  Be  bold,  be  bold,  but  not  too  bold.'     She  ad- 
vanced— over  the  staircase,  the  same  inscription.     She  went  up — over 
the  entrance  of  a  gallery,  the  same.     She  proceeded — over  the  door  of 
a.  chamber,  '  Be  bold,  be  bold,  but  not  too  bold,  lest  that  your  heart's 
blood  should  run  cold.'     She  opened  it — it  was  full  of  skeletons,  tubs 
full  of  blood,  etc.     She  retreated  in  haste.     Coming  down  stairs,  she 
saw,  out  of  a  window,  Mr.  Fox  advancing  towards  the  house,  with  a 
drawn  sword  in  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  dragged  along  a 
young  lady  by  her  hair.     Lady  Mary  had  just  time  to  slip  down  and 
hide  herself,  under  the  stairs,  before  Mr.  Fox  and  his  victim  arrived 
at  the  foot  of  them.     As  he  pulled  the  young  lady  up  stairs,  she  caught 
hold  of  one  of  the  bannisters  with  her  hand,  on  which  was  a  rich  brace- 
let.    Mr.  Fox  cut  it  off  with  his  sword :  the  hand  and  bracelet  fell  into 
Lady  Mary's  lap,  who  then  contrived  to  escape  unobserved,  and  got  home 
safe  to  her  brothers'  house. 

"After  a  few  days  Mr.  Fox  came  to  dine  with  them,  as  usual  (wheth- 
er by  invitation,  or  of  his  own  accord,  this  deponent  saith  not).  Afier 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I. 


123 


dinner,  when  the  guests  began  to  amuse  each  other  with  extraordinary 
anecdotes,  Lady  Mary  at  length  said  she  would  relate  to  them  a  remark- 
able dream  she  had  lately  had.  *  1  dreamed,'  said  she,  *  that  as  you,  Mr. 
Fox,  had  often  invited  me  to  your  house,  I  would  go  there  one  morning. 
When  I  came  to  the  house,  I  knocked,  etc.,  but  no  one  answered.  When 
1  opened  .the  door,  over  the  hall  was  written,  "  Be  bold,  be  bold,  but  not 
too  bold."  But,'  said  she,  turning  to  Mr.  Fox,  and  smiling,  *it  is  not  so, 
nor  it  was  not  so.'  Then  she  pursues  the  rest  of  the  story,  concluding 
at  every  turn  with,  *  It  is  not  so,  nor  it  was  not  so,'  till  she  comes  to  the 
room  full  of  dead  bodies,  when  Mr.  Fox  took  up  the  burden  of  the  tale, 
and  said,  '  It  is  not  so,  nor  it  was  not  so,  and  God  forbid  it  should  be 
so;'  which  he  continues  to  repeat  at  every  subsequent  turn  of  the  dread- 
ful story,  till  she  comes  to  the  circumstance  of  his  cutting  off  the  young 
lady's  hand ;  when,  upon  his  saying,  as  usual,  '  It  is  not  so,  nor  it  was 
not  so,  and  God  forbid  it  should  be  so,'  Lady  Mary  retorts,  '  But  it  is  so, 
and  it  was  so,  and  here  the  hand  I  have  to  show,'  at  the  same  time  pro- 
ducing the  hand  and  bracelet  from  her  lap  :  whereupon,  the  guests  drew 
their  swords,  and  instantly  cut  Mr.  Fox  into  a  thousand  pieces." 

196.  To  fetch  me  in.  Schmidt  explains  this  "to  take  me  in,  to  dupe 
me ;"  that  is,  to  entrap  me  into  a  confession. 

198.  Spoke.  The  quarto  reading;  the  folio  has  "speake."  As  Stee- 
vens  remarks,  Benedick  means  that  he  spoke  his  mind  when  he  said 
"  God  forbid  it  should  be  so  !" 

208.  In  the  force  of  his  will.  "  Warburton's  professional  eye  first 
detected  the  allusion  here  to  heresy,  as  defined  in  scholastic  divinity  ; 
according  to  which  it  was  not  merely  heterodox  opinion,  but  a  wilful 
adherence  to  such  opinion.  The  subject  was  a  familiar  one  in  Shake- 
speare's day"  (W.).  For  a  different  but  less  probable  explanation,  see 
Schmidt. 

212.  Recheat.      Notes  sounded   on   the   horn  to   call  off  the  hounds. 
Winded- blown.     The  meaning  is,  I  will  not  wear  a  horn  on  my  fore- 
head which  the  huntsman  may  blow  (Johnson). 

213.  Baldrick.     A  baldric k  was  a  belt,  girdle,  or  sash,  sometimes  a 
sword-belt;  generally  passed  round  one  side  of  the  neck  and  under  the 
opposite  arm.     Turbervile,  in  his  Book  of  Hunting,  ed.  1611,  gives  a  fig- 
ure of  a  huntsman  with  his  horn  hanging  from  a  baldrick  worn  in  that 
way.     Sylvester  (Du  Bartas]  calls  the  zodiac  "  heaven's  baldrick."     Cf. 
Spenser,  Prothalamion : 

"That  like  the  twins  of  Jove,  they  seem'd  in  sight, 

Which  decke  the  Bauldricke  of  the  Heavens  bright." 

The  invisibility  of  the  horns  of  the  cuckold  is  often  alluded  to  by  the 
old  writers,  as  Halliwell  shows  by  many  quotations. 

215.  Fine.  End,  conclusion.  For  the  play  on  the  word,  cf.  Ham.  v.  I. 
115  :  "  the  fine  of  his  fines." 

222.  A  ballad-maker's  pen.  Referred  to  contemptuously  as  a  worth- 
less instrument  (Halliwell). 

225.  Argument.     Subject  (that  is,  for  satire).     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  242  : 

"  If  you  have  any  pity,  grace,  or  manners. 
You  would  not  make  me  such  an  argument ;" 


124  NOTES. 

and  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  100 :  "  it  would  be  argument  for  a  week,  laughter 
tor  a  month,  and  a  good  jest  for  ever." 

226.  Like  a  cat.  Shooting  at  a  cat  hung  up  in  a  bottle  or  a  basket 
was  one  of  the  "  manly  sports "  of  the  olden  time.  Steevens  quotes 
Warres,  or  the  Peace  is  Broken :  "  arrowes  flew  faster  than  they  did  at 
a  catte  in  a  basket;"  and  Cormi-copice,  1623  :  "bowmen  bold,  which  at 
a  cat  do  shoot." 

228.  Adam.  Alluding  to  Adam  Bell,  an  outlaw  whose  fame  as  an 
archer  is  celebrated  in  a  ballad  which  may  be  found  in  Percy's  Reliques 

230.  /;/  time,  etc.  The  line  is  taken  from  The  Spanish  Tragedy  where 
it  reads,  "In  time  the  savage  bull  sustains  the  yoke."  It  had  appeared 
even  earlier  in  Watson's  Passionate  Centurie  of  Love,  1582.  In  the  origi- 
nal copy  (MS.  Harl.  3277)  it  reads,  "In  tyme  the  bull  is  brought  to  beare 
the  yoake,  but  it  was  afterwards  printed  "weare  the  yoake."  Cf.  Ovid 
Tristia,  iv.  6.  i  :  "  Tempore  ruricolae  patiens  fit  taurus  aratri ;"  and  De 
Arte  Amandt,  i.  471  :  "Tempore  difficiles  veniunt  ad  aratra  juvenci  " 

240.  In  Vemce.  Venice  was  then  "the  capital  of  pleasure  and  in- 
trigue," as  Pans  is  now.  Cf.  Greene,  Never  Too  Late:  "this  great  city 
of  Venice  is  holden  Loves  Paradice." 

242.  You  will  temporize,  etc.  You  will  come  to  terms  in  the  course  of 
time.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  4.  6  :  "  If  I  could  temporize  with  my  affection," 
etc. 

248.  Tuition.  Guardianship ;  the  etymological  meaning.  S.  uses  the 
word  nowhere  else. 

252.  Guarded.     Faced,  bordered.     Guards  were  trimmings  or  facings 
of  lace  or  embroidery.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii.  2.  164 : 

"  Give  him  a  livery 
More  guarded  than  his  fellows' ;" 

Hen.  VIII.  prol.  16  :   "  In  a  long  motley  coat  guarded  with  yellow ;"  L. 
L.  L.  iv.  3.  58 :  "  O,  rhymes  are  guards  on  wanton  Cupid's  hose,"  etc. 

253.  Flout  old  ends.     Make  sport  of  old  endings  of  letters,  like  those 
just  quoted  by  Claudio  and  Don  Pedro.     Reed  cites  Barnaby  Googe's 
dedication  to  the  first  edition  of  Palingenius,  1560:  "And  thus  commit- 
tyng  your  Ladiship  with  all  yours  to  the  tuicion  of  the  most  mercifull 
God,  I  ende.     From  Staple  Inne  at  London,  the  eighte  and  twenty  of 
March."     Malone  adds  Drayton's  ending  of  a  letter  to  Drummond  of 
Hawthornden,  in  1619  :  "And  so  wishing  you  all  happiness,  I  commend 
you  to  God's  tuition,  and  rest  your  assured  friend."     Cf.  A',  of  L.  1308, 
where  Lucrece  ends  her  letter  thus  : 

"  So  I  commend  me  from  our  house  in  grief; 

My  woes  are  tedious,  though  my  words  are  brief." 

Examine  your  conscience.  "  Examine  if  your  sarcasms  do  not  touch 
yourself"  (Johnson). 

257.  Thine  to  teach.  "  Ready  to  be  taught  by  you"  (J.  H.).  Walker 
conjectured  "use"  for  teach,  but  no  change  is  called  for. 

262.  Affect.     Love.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  82: 

"  There  is  a  lady  in  Verona  here 
Whom  I  affect."  etc. 

263.  Went  onward.     Started. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  II.  125 

267.  And  that.     For  the  use  of  that,  see  Gr.  285. 

271.  To  wars, —  We  adopt  the  pointing  of  Coll.,  Hallivvell,  and  W. 
Don  Pedro  interrupts  Claudio  in  his  fine-twisted  story. 

275.  Break  with  her.  Broach  the  subject  to  her.  Cf.  71  G.  of  V.  i.  3. 
44 :  "  now  will  we  break  with  him  ;"  Hen.  VIII.  v.  I.  47  :  "  Have 
broken  with  the  king,"  etc.  S.  uses  break  to  in  the  same  sense;  as  in 
292  just  below.  He  also  has  break  with  = break  one's  word  to ;  as  in 
M.  W.  iii.  2.  57  :  "we  have  appointed  to  dine  with  Mistress  Anne,  and 
I  would  not  break  with  her  for  more  money  than  I  '11  speak  of." 

The  words  and  with  her  father ;  Ami  thou  shalt  have  her,  omitted  in 
the  folio,  were  restored  by  Theo. 

281.  Salvd.     Palliated.     Cf.  Cor.  iii.  2.  70 : 

k'you  may  salve  so, 

Not  what  is  dangerous  present,  but  the  loss 
Of  what  is,  past." 

Treatise.  Discourse,  talk.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  774:  "Your  treatise  makes 
me  like  you  worse  and  worse;"  Macb.  v.  5.  12:  "a  dismal  treatise" 
(that  is,  tale). 

283.  The  fairest  grant,  etc.     "  The  best  boon  is  that  which  answers  the 
necessities  of  the  case"  (St.) ;   or  what  will  serve  is  fit,  as  the  next  line 
gives  it.     Hayley  suggested  "  to  necessity."     Hanmer  reads  "plea,"  and 
the  Coll.  MS.  "ground"  for  grant. 

284.  '7 'is  once.      "Once  for  all;  't  is  enough  to  say  at  once"  (Stee- 
vens) ;  or  "  't  is  a  fact  past  all  help  "  (Schmidt).     So  in  C.  of  E.  iii.  I.  89, 
"Once  this"=this  much  is  certain. 

287.  /  will  assume  thy  part,  etc.  Where  is  this  spoken  ?  In  the  next 
scene  Antonio  tells  Leonato  that  a  servant  of  his  had  overheard  the  con- 
versation in  an  alley  in  his  orchard  ;  and  in  the  next  scene  Borachio 
tells  John  that  he  had  overheard  it  from  behind  an  arras  in  tfte  house. 
Are  we  to  suppose  an  interval  of  time  between  the  first  and  second 
scenes  of  this  act  ?  Or  were  there  two  conversations  between  the  Prince 
and  Claudio  on  this  subject  ?  Or  is  it  one  of  those  instances  of  the 
poet's  carelessness  in  the  minor  parts  of  his  plot  to  which  reference  has 
already  been  made  in  M.  N.  D.  p.  122  and  Ham.  p.  241  ? 

289.  Unclasp  my  heart.     Cf.  T.  N.  i.  4.  13  : 

"  I  have  unclasp'd 

To  thee  the  book  even  of  my  secret  soul." 
See  also  W.  T.  iii.  2.  168. 

290.  Take  her  hearing  prisoner,  etc.     Cf.  Cymb.  i.  6.  103  :   "  Takes 
prisoner  the  wild  motion  of  mine  eye." 

292.  After.  Afterwards.  Cf.  Temp.  ii.  2.  10 :  "  And  after  bite  me," 
etc.  Gr.  26. 

294.  Presently.     See  on  74  above. 

SCENE  II. — 4.  Strange.     The  quarto  reading  ;  omitted  in  the  folio. 

5.  They.  S.  uses  news  both  as  singular  and  as  plural.  Cf.  Temp.  v. 
I.  221,  Rich.  II.  iii.  4.  74,  82,  Cor.  i.  I.  4,  etc.,  with  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  2.  39, 
Oth.  ii.  2.  7,  etc.  See  also  ii.  i.  155  below :  "these  ill  news;"  and  v.  2.  88  : 
"  this  news." 


126  A'OTES. 

8.  Thick  -  pleached.     Thickly  interwoven.     Cf.  Hi.  I.  7  below:    "the 
pleached  bower;"  A.  and  C.  iv.  14.  73  :  "with  pleach'd  arms"  (that  is, 
folded  arms). 

Orchard.     Garden ;  the  only  meaning  Schmidt  recognizes  in  S.     See 

y.  c.  p.  142. 

9.  Thzis  much  overheard.     The  quarto  reading;  the  folio  has  "thus 
overheard." 

10.  Discovered.     Revealed.     Cf.  Lear,  ii.  I.  68 :  "I  threaten'd  to  dis- 
cover him,"  etc. 

13.  By  the  top.     Cf.  A.  W.  v.  3.  39 :  "  Let  's  take  the  instant  by  the 
forward  top." 

For  break  with,  see  on  i.  i.  275  above. 

17.  Till  it  appear  itself.     Till  it  appear  as  a  reality.     H.  suggests  "  ap- 
prove "for  appear. 

18.  Withal.     With  it.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  67:  "he  will  scarce  be 
pleas'd  withal,"  etc.     Gr.  196. 

21.  Cousins.  "Cousins  were  anciently  enrolled  among  the  depend- 
ants, if  not  domestics,  of  great  families,  such  as  that  of  Leonato.  Petru- 
chio,  while  intent  on  the  subjection  of  Katharine  [T.  of  S.  iv.  i.  154]  calls 
out,  in  terms  imperative,  for  his  *  cousin  Ferdinand '  "  (Steevens).  For 
the  use  of  cousin  in  S.  see  Ham.  p.  179  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  147. 

Cry  you  mercy.     Beg  your  pardon.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  159. 

SCENE  III. — i.  The  good  year.  Supposed  to  be  corrupted  from  gou- 
jere  and  =  "  Pox  on  't !"  ( T.  N.  iii.  4.  308).  Cf.  M.  W.  i.  4.  129,  Lear,  v.  3. 
24,  etc.  The  expression  was,  however,  often  used  literally ;  as  in  Holy- 
band's  French  Littleton,  ed.  1609  :  "  God  give  you  a  good  morrow  and  a 
good  yeare, — Dieu  vous  doit  bon  jour  et  bon  an."  Halliwell  adds  sev- 
eral similar  examples. 

4.  Breeds  it.  The  //  is  not  found  in  the  early  eds.  but  is  given  in  the 
Coll.  MS. 

8.  At  least.     The  quarto  reading ;  the  folio  has  "yet." 

11.  Born  under  Saturn.     An  astrological  allusion.     Those  born  under 
Saturn  were  supposed  to  be  of  a  phlegmatic  or  saturnine  disposition. 
Cf.  T.A.  ii.3.3i: 

"  though  Venus  govern  your  desires, 
Saturn  is  dominator  over  mine." 

See  also  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  286. 

Goest  about.     Dost  undertake.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  177  or  Hen.  V.  p.  174. 

12.  Mortifying.     Used  in  the  literal  sense  =  killing.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  I. 
82  :  "mortifying  groans."     See  also  Hen.  V.  i.  i.  26. 

/  cannot  hide,  etc.  "This  is  one  of  our  author's  natural  touches.  An 
envious  and  unsocial  mind,  too  proud  to  give  pleasure  and  too  sullen  to 
receive  it,  always  endeavours  to  hide  its  malignity  from"  the  world  and 
from  itself  under  the  plainness  of  simple  honesty  or  the  dignity  of 
haughty  independence  "  (Johnson). 

14.  Stomach.     Appetite  ;  as  in  ii.  3.  232  below.     See  also  T.  G.  of  V. 
i.  2.  68,  T.  of  S.  iv.  i.  161,  etc. 

16.  Claw.     Tickle,  flatter.     The  origin  of  the  metaphor  is  illustrated 


ACT  I.     SCEXE  III.  127 

by  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  282.     See  also  Z.  Z.  L.  iv.  2.  66.     Reecl  quotes  Wil- 
son, Discourse  upon  Usury,  1572  :  "therefore  I  will  clawe  him,  and  saye 
well  might  he  fare,  and  godds  blessing  have  he  too.     For  the  more  he 
speaketh,  the  better  it  itcheth,  and  maketh  better  for  me." 
*  1 8.   Controlment.     Constraint.     Cf.  T.  A.  ii.  I.  68  and  K.  John,  i.  i.  20. 
20.   Grace.     Favour ;   as  in  ii.  3.  26  below :   "  one  woman   shall  not 
come  in  my  grace,"  etc. 

23.  Canker.     Canker-rose,  or  dog-rose.     It  is  similarly  contrasted  with 
the  cultivated  rose  in  Sonn.  54.  5  : 

"  The  canker-blooms  have  full  as  deep  a  dye 
As  the  perfumed  tincture  of  the  roses  ;" 

and  in  I  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  176  : 

"  To  put  down  Richard,  that  sweet  lovely  rose, 
And  plant  this  thorn,  this  canker,  Bolingbroke  ?" 

24.  Blood.     Disposition,  temper.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  4.  38:   "When 
you  perceive  his  blood  inclin'd  to  mirth,"  etc. 

25.  Carriage.     Bearing,  deportment.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  14 :  "  Teach 
sin  the  carriage  of  a  holy  saint,"  etc. 

Rob  love  from  any.  Cf.  Sonn.  35.  14:  "that  sweet  thief  which  sourly 
robs  from  me  ;"  and  Rich.  II.  i.  3.  173  :  "  Which  robs  my  tongue  from 
breathing  native  breath." 

34.  For  I  use  it  only.  "  For  I  make  nothing  else  my  counsellor " 
(Steevens).  For  I  make  the  folio  has  "I  will  make." 

40.  Model.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  42  : 

"  When  we  mean  to  build, 
We  first  survey  the  plot,  then  draw  the  model ; 
And  when  we  see  the  figure  of  the  house, 
Then  must  we  rate  the  cost  of  the  erection  ; 
Which  if  we  find  outweighs  ability, 
What  do  we  then  but  draw  anew  the  model,"  etc. 

41.  What  is  he  for  a  fool  ?     What  sort  of  fool  is  he  ?     St.  quotes  B.  J., 
Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,  iii.  6  :  "  What  is  he  for  a  creature  ?"  and 
Ram  Alley,  iv.  2  :  "  What  is  he  for  a  man  ?" 

43.  Marry.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  138. 

46.  Proper.  For  the  ironical  use,  cf.  iv.  i.  304  below  :  "a  proper  say- 
i  ig  !"  See  also  Hen.  VIII.  i.  i.  98,  Macb.  iii.  4.  60,  etc.  And  for  the 
contemptuous  squire,  cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  iv.  I.  23,  Oth.  iv.  2.  145,  etc. 

50.  March-chick.  That  is,  a  chicken  hatched  in  March  ;  a  sneer  at  his 
forwardness* 

52.  Entertained  for.  Employed  as.  Cf.  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  496  :  "To  en- 
tertain me  as  your  steward  still ;"  Lear,  iii.  6.  83  :  "  You,  sir,  I  entertain 
for  one  of  my  hundred,"  etc. 

Smoking  a  musty  room  is  suggestive  of  the  uncleanly  habits  of  the 
time.  Steevens  quotes  Burton,  Anat.  of  Melancholy :  "the  smooke  of 
juniper  is  in  great  request  with  us  at  Oxford,  to  sweeten  our  chambers." 
Jn  a  letter  from  the  Lords  of  the  Council  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VI.  we 
nre  told  that  Lord  Paget's  house  was  so  small  that  "after  one  month  it 
would  wax  unsavery  for  hym  to  contynue  in ;"  and  in  the  correspond- 
ence of  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  with  Lord  Burleigh,  during  the  confine- 


I28  NOTES. 

ment  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  at  Sheffield  Castle,  in  1572,  we  learn  that 
she  was  to  be  removed  for  five  or  six  days  "to  klense  her  chambar,  being 
kept  very  unklenly."  Again,  in  a  memoir  written  by  Anne  Countess  of 
Dorset,  in  1603,  we  read  :  "  we  all  went  to  Tibbals  to  see  the  Kinge,  who 
used  my  mother  and  my  aunt  very  gratiouslie ;  but  we  all  saw  a  great 
chaunge  betweene  the  fashion  of  the  Court  as  it  was  now,  and  of  y1  in  ye 
Queene's,  for  we  were  all  lovvzy  by  sittinge  in  Sr  Thomas  Erskin's  cham- 
ber." 

53.  Me.     For  the  "  ethical  dative,"  see  Gr.  220. 

54.  Sad.     Serious,  earnest.     See  on  i.  i.  162  above. 

Arras.  Tapestry  hangings,  so  called  from  Arras  in  France.  Cf.  Ham. 
ii.  2.  163,  iii.  3.  28,  etc. 

59.  Start-tip.  Used  by  S.  nowhere  else.  Upstart  occurs  as  a  noun  in 
I  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  87,  and  as  an  adjective  in  Rich.  II.  ii.  3.  122. 

"In  the  character  of  the  chief  villain  of  the  drama,  the  Poet  has  whol- 
ly departed  from  the  plot  of  Bandello's  tale,  which  furnished  him  with 
the  outline  of  the  story.  The  novelist  had  ascribed  the  base  deception, 
on  which  his  story  turns,  to  the  revenge  of  a  rejected  lover,  who,  at  the 
catastrophe,  makes  some  amends  for  his  guilt,  by  remorse  and  frank  con- 
fession. Shakespeare  has  chosen  to  pourtray  a  less  common  and  obvi- 
ous, but  unhappily  too  true  character, — one  of  sullen  malignity,  to  whom 
the  happiness  or  success  of  others  is  sufficient  reason  for  the  bitterness 
of  hatred,  and  cause  enough  to  prompt  to  injury  and  crime.  This  char- 
acter has  much  the  appearance  of  being  the  original  conception  and 
rough  sketch  of  that  wayward,  dark  disposition,  which  the  Poet  after- 
wards painted  more  elaborately,  with  some  variation  of  circumstances 
and"  temperament,  in  his  'honest  lago'"  (V.). 

6 1.  Sure.     To  be  relied  on.     Cf.  Cor.  i.  i.  176  : 

"  you  are  no  surer,  no, 
Than  is  the  coal  of  fire  upon  the  ice, 
Or  hailstone  in  the  sun." 

63.  Cheer.  Festive  enjoyment.  For  the  original  meaning  of  the  word, 
see  M.  of  V.  p.  152  or  M.  N.  D.  p.  163. 

65.  Go  prove.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  137,  note  on  Go  buy. 


ACT  II. 

SCENE  I. — 4.  Heart-burned.  "  The  pain  commonly  called  the  heart- 
burn proceeds  from  an  acid  humour  in  the  stomach,  and  is  therefore 
properly  enough  imputed  to  tart  looks  "  (Johnson).  Cf.  FalstafFs  jest- 
ing use  of  the  word  in  I  Hen.  IV.  iii.  3.  59. 

17.  Shrewd.  Shrewish.  Cf.  J.  C.  p.  145.  Curst  has  the  same  mean- 
ing, and  the  two  words  are  used  interchangeably  and  in  combination. 
In  the  T.ofS.  the  heroine  is  called  ''Katharine  the  curst"  (i.  2.  128)  or 
"Kate  the  curst"  (ii.  i.  87),  and  "curst  and  shrewd"  (i.  i.  185,  i.  2.  70). 
See  also  M.  N.  D.  p.  167, 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I.  129 

24.  Just.  Just  so,  exactly  so.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  281  :  "  Yes,  just." 
See  also  M.for  M.  iii.  I.  68,  Hen.  V.  iii.  7.  158,  etc. 

27.  In  the  woollen.     That  is,  between  the  blankets,  without  sheets. 

35.  Bear-herd.  The  early  eds.  have  "  Berrord,"  which  probably  in- 
dicates the  common  pronunciation.  The  Coll.  MS.  gives  "bear-ward," 
which  some  prefer.  Schmidt  says  that  bear-herd  is  "the  Shakespearian 
form  of  the  word."  The  folio  has  "Beare-heard"  in  T.  of  S.  ind.  ii.  21 
and  2  Hen.  IV.  \.  2.  192.  In  2  Hen.  VI.  v.  I.  149  it  has  "  Berard,"  and 
in  210  "Bearard."  These  are  the  only  passages  in  which  the  word  oc- 
curs. For  bearward,  see  quotation  in  note  on  i.  I.  34  above. 

The  apes  rode  on  the  bear  led  about  by  the  bear-herd.  For  the  idea 
that  old  maids  led  apes  into  hell,  cf.  T.ofS.\\.  I.  34. 

41.  For  the  heavens.  Some  take  this  to  be  an  oath,  as  in  M.  of  V.  ii. 
2.  12  :  "for  the  heavens,  rouse  up  a  brave  mind." 

45.  Curtsy.  The  same  word  as  courtesy,  which  some  eds.  give  here. 
The  quarto  has  "cursie"  in  both  instances  in  this  speech,  and  Halliwell 
prints  "cursey,"  which  he  says  is  "a  genuine  archaic  form  of  the  word 
courtesy.'1''  See  also  on  iv.  I.  314  below. 

48.  Father.     Omitted  in  the  folio. 

52.  To  be  overmastered  with.    To  have  as  master,  to  be  ruled  by.    For 
with  —by,  see  Gr.  193. 

53.  To  make  an  account.     To  render  an  account.     The  folio  omits  an. 

54.  / '//  none.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  169:   "keep  thy  Hermia;  I  will 
none ;"  A.  and  C.  ii.  5.  9 :   "I  '11  none  now,"  etc.     For  other  ellipses 
with  will,  see  Gr.  405. 

56.  Match.  Marry.  Cf.  T.  JV.  i.  3.  116:  "she  '11  none  o'  the  count; 
she  '11  not  match  above  her  degree,"  etc. 

60.  Important.     Importunate.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  v.  I.  138:   "your  impor- 
tant letters;"  A.  W.  iii.  7.  21  :  "his  important  blood."     In  Lear,  iv.  4. 
26,  the  quartos  have  "important,"  the  folio  "importuned." 

61.  Measure.     Moderation,  a  proper  limit ;  with  a  play  on  the  other 
meaning  .of  a  dance,  as  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  384  and  Kick.  II.  iii.  4.  7. 

63.  Cinque-pace.  A  kind  of  dance,  as  the  context  shows.  Cf.  T.  N. 
i.  3.  139  and  see  Ham.  p.  222.  The  Camb.  ed.  quotes  Marston,  Insatiate 
Countess,  ii.  : 

"  Thinke  of  me  as  of  the  man 
Whose  dancing  dayes  you  see  are  not  yet  done. 
Len.  Yet,  you  sinke  a  pace,  sir.' ' 

For  sink  in  68  below  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "sink  apace."     According  to 
Nares,  the  cinque-pace  was  the  same  as  \hegalliard.     See  Hen.  V.  p.  150. 

65.  Mannerly.     Also  used  adverbially  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  9.  100  and  Cymb. 
iii.  6.  92. 

66.  Ancientry.    "The  port  and  behaviour  of  old  age"  (Schmidt).    "It 
means  old  people  in  W.  T.  iii.  3,  63  :  "wronging  the  ancientry." 

75.  So.     Provided  that.     Gr.  133. 

81.  Favour.  Face,  look ;  as  in  iii.  3.  17  below.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  iv.  2. 
34 :  "  for  surely,  sir,  a  good  favour  you  have,  but  that  you  have  a  hang- 
ing look,"  etc. 

Defend.  Forbid,  like  the  Fr.  defendre.  Cf.  iv.  2.  18  below.  See  also 

I 


I30 


NOTES. 


Oth.  i.  3.  267  :  "And  heaven  defend  your  good  souls,  that  you  think," 
etc. 

83.  Philemotfs  roof.  An  allusion  to  the  story  of  Philemon  and  Baucis 
in  Ovid.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  3.  10  :  "worse  than  Jove  in  a  thatched  house." 
This  and  the  next  two  speeches  form  a  rhymed  couplet  in  the  fourteen- 
syllable  measure  of  Golding's  translation  of  Ovid.  For  Jove  the  folio 
misprints  "  Love." 

86.  Well)  I  would,  etc.  This  speech,  with  the  next  two  here  assigned 
to  Balthazar,  is  given  to  Benedick  in  the  early  eds.  Theo.  made  the  cor- 
rection. 

89.    Which  is  one?    We  should  now  say  "  What  is  one  ?" 

96.  Clerk.  The  reader  of  responses  in  the  English  church  service ; 
suggested  here  by  Balthazar's  "  Amen."  Cf.  Sonn.  85.  6  :  "  And  like  un- 
lettered clerk  still  cry  'Amen  ;'  "  Rich.  II.  iv.  I.  173  :  "Am  I  both  priest 
and  clerk  ?  Well  then,  Amen." 

100.  At  a  word.  Cf.  M.  W.  i.  I.  109:  "at  a  word,  he  hath,  believe 
me  ;"  Cor.  \.  3.  122  :  "  No,  at  a  word,  madam,"  etc. 

103.  Do  him  so  ill -well.     That  is,  mimic  his  bad  manner  so  well. 
^ Steevens  compares  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  63  :    "a  better  bad  habit  of  frown- 
"ing." 

104.  Dry  hand.     Fomerly  regarded  as  the  mark  of  a  cold  nature.    Cf. 
T.  N.  i.  3.  77. 

Up  and  down.  Thoroughly,  exactly.  Cf.  T.G.ofV.  ii.  3.  32  :  "  here  's 
my  mother's  breath  up  and  down ;"  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  89 :  "  What,  up  and 
down,  carv'd  like  an  apple-tart  ?"  T.  A.  v.  2.  107  :  "  For  up  and  down 
she  doth  resemble  thee." 

L09.  There  V  an  end.  There  is  no  more  to  be  said  about  it.  Cf.  Hen. 
V.  ii.  i.  u,  iii.  2.  153,  etc.  There  an  end  is  used  in  the  same  sense;  as  in 
T.  ofS.  v.  2.  98,  Rich.  II.  v.  i.  69,  etc. 

112.  Nor  will  you  not.     For  the  double  negative,  see  Gr.  406. 

115.  The  Hundred  Merry  Tales.  A  popular  jest-book  of  the  time, 
an  imperfect  copy  of  which  was  discovered  and  reprinted  in  1815. 

117.    What  V  he  ?     Who  's  he  ?     See  on  i.  I.  30  above. 

123.  Only  his  gift  is.  His  talent  is  only.  For  the  transposition,  cf. 
J.  C.  v.  4.  12  :  "  Only  I  yield  to  die,"  etc.  Gr.  420. 

Impossible  slanders  are  "  such  as,  from  their  absurdity  and  impossibil- 
ity, bring  their  own  confutation  with  them  "  (Johnson).  Warb.  wished 
to  read  "  impassable  "  =  "  so  ill  invented  that  they  will  pass  upon  no- 
body." 

125.  He  both  pleases,  etc.  "By  his  impious  jests,  she  insinuates,  he 
pleased  libertines  ;  and  by  his  devising  slanders  of  them,  he  angered 
them"  (Warb.). 

127.  ///  the  fleet.  J.  H.  explains  this  as  "connected  with  this"  (see 
114-116  above);  but  it  simply  means  in  the  company,  and  the  figure  is 
carried  out  in  boarded— accosted.  Cf.  Ham.  ii.  2.  170 :  "I  '11  board  him 
presently,"  etc. 

132.  Partridge  wing.  Formerly  considered  the  most  delicate  part  of 
the  bird  (Halliwell).  Some  eds.  print  "partridge'  wing." 

145.  Near.     Intimate  with.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  4.  14  :  "you  and  he  are 


ACT  II.    SCENE  L  13! 

V 

near  in  love  ;"  2  Hen.  IV.  v.  I.  81 :  "I  would  humour  his  men  with  the 
imputation  of  being  near  their  master,"  etc. 

146.  Enamoured.  Followed  by  on  also  in  I  Hen.  IV.  v.  2.  70  and  2 
Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  102  ;  by  of  in  M.  N.  D.  iii.  I.  141,  iv.  I.  82,  and  R.  and  J. 
iii.  3.  2.  Cf.  Gr.  181. 

155.  News.     For  the  number,  see  on  i.  2.  5  above. 

159.  Use.  Third  person  imperative;  or  "subjunctive  used  optatively 
or  imperatively,'1  as  Abbott  (Gr.  364,  365)  calls  it. 

162.  Faith  melteth  into  blood.     Fidelity  is  melted  in  the  heat  of  pas- 
sion.    For  blood  in  this  sense,  cf.  ii.  3.  150  and  iv.  i.  56  below.     See  also 
A.  Y.  L.  v.  4.  59,  A.  W.  iii.  7.  21,  etc. 

163.  Proof.     Experience.     Cf.  J.  C.  ii.  i.  21  :  "  't  is  a  common  proof;" 
flam.  iv.  7.  1 13  :   "  passages  of  proof,"  etc. 

169.  Willow.     For  other  allusions  to  the  willow  as  the  emblem  of  un- 
happy love,  see  M.  of  V.  v.  I.  10,  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  3.  228,  iv.  I.  100,  Oth.  iv.  3. 
28  fol.,  v.  2.  248,  etc.     Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  i.  I.  9  :  "The  Willow  worne  of 
forlorne  Paramours ;"  Lyly,  Sappho  and  Phao,  ii.  4  :  "  Enjoy  thy  care  in 
covert ;  weare  willow  in  thy  hat,  and  bayes  in  thy  heart ;"  Swan,  Specu- 
lum Mnndi,  1635  :  "  it  is  yet  a  custom  that  he  which  is  deprived  of  his 
love  must  wear  a  willow  garland."     Fuller,  in  his  Worthies,  describes  the 
willow  as  "a  sad  tree,  whereof  such  who  have  lost  their  love,  make  their 
mourning  garlands,  and  we  know  what  exiles  hung  up  their  harps  upon 
such  doleful  1  supporters.    The  twiggs  hereof  are  physick  to  drive  out  the 
folly  of  children,"  etc. 

170.  County.     Count;  the  reading  of  the  quarto  here  and  in  317  be- 
low.   The  folio  has  "Count"  here,  and  "  Counte  "  there,  but  "  Counties" 
in  iv.  I.  310.      County  is  also  found  in  M.  of  V.  \.  2.  49,  A.  W.  iii.  7.  22, 
T.  N.  i.  5.  320,  and  often  in  R.  and  J.     Cf.  Warner,  Albions  England: 
"  Home  and  Egmond,  counties  brave." 

171.  An  usurer's  chain.     Gold  chains  were  often  worn  by  wealthy  cit- 
izens in  the  poet's  time,  as  they  are  now  on  public  occasions  by  the  al- 
dermen of  London  (Reed). 

175.  Drovier.     The  spelling  of  both  quarto  and  folio. 

187.  Though  bitter.  The  reading  of  the  early  eds.,  changed  by  Johnson 
to  "  the  bitter." 

Puts  the  world)  etc.  Assumes  to  represent  the  world,  and  thus  reports 
me.  For  gives  me  out,  cf.  A.  W.\\.  3.  16  :  "That  gave  him  out  incur- 
able," etc. 

193.  A  lodge  in  a  warren.  The  hut  occupied  by  a  watchman  in  a  rab- 
bit warren.  Steevens  remarks:  "A  parallel  thought  occurs  in  the  first 
chapter  of  Isaiah,  where  the  prophet,  describing  the  desolation  of  Judah, 
says,  *  The  daughter  of  Zion  is  left  as  a  cottage  in  a  vineyard,  as  a  lodge 
in  a  garden  of  cucumbers.'  I  am  informed  that  near  Aleppo  these  lone- 
ly buildings  are  still  made  use  of,  it  being  necessary  that  the  fields  where 
water-melons,  cucumbers,  etc.,  are  raised  should  be  regularly  watched.  I 
learn  from  Tho.  Newton's  Ilerball  to  the  Bible,  1587,  that  'so  soone  as 
the  cucumbers,  etc.,  be  gathered,  these  lodges  are  abandoned  of  the 
watchmen  and  keepers,  and  no  more  frequented.'  From  these  forsaken 
buildings,  it  should  seem,  the  prophet  takes  his  comparison." 


132 


NOTES. 


213.  Hath  a  quarrel  to  you.  Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  4.  248  :  "  I  am  sure  no  mah 
hath  any  quarrel  to  me ;"  Cor.  iv.  5.  133  :  "  Had  we  no  quarrel  else  to 
Rome,"  etc. 

216.  Misused.  Abused,  reviled.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  I.  205  :  "you  have 
simply  misused  our  sex,"  etc. 

218.  My  very  visor,  etc.  Steevens  notes  a  similar  thought  in  Statius, 
Thebaid,  v.  658 : 

"ipsa  insanire  videtur 
Sphynx  galeae  custos." 

221.  Impossible  conveyance.  "  Incredible  dexterity"  (St.).  Warb. 
would  read  "impassable,"  as  in  123  above;  Hanmer,  "impetuous;" 
Johnson  "importable"  (  =  insupportable),  a  word  used  by  Spenser  (F. 
Q.  ii.  8.  35  :  "importable  powre")  and  other  writers  of  the  time.  No 
change  is  necessary.  The  meaning,  as  Malone  remarks,  is  "  with  a  ra- 
pidity equal  to  that  of  jugglers,  who  appear  to  perform  impossibilities." 
Conveyance  was  often  used  in  the  sense  of  sleight  of  hand,  trickery.  Cf. 
3  Hen.  VL  iii.  3.  160  :  "  thy  sly  conveyance,"  etc. 

223.  She  speaks  poniards.     Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  414  :  "  I  will  speak  daggers 
to  her." 

224.  Terminations.  Terms,  words  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

227.  Left.     The  Coll.  MS.  gives  "  lent." 

228.  Have  made  Hercules  have  turned.     Cf.  Ham.  v.  I.  268:   "I  hop'd 
thou  shouldst  have  been  my  Hamlet's  wife,"  etc.     Gr.  360. 

230.  Ate.     Cf.  K.  John,  ii.  I.  63  :  "  An  Ate,  stirring  him  to  blood  and 
strife ;"  J.  C.  iii.  I.  271  :  "  With  Ate  by  his  side,  come  hot  from  hell." 
etc. 

231.  Some  scholar,  etc.    Because  Latin,  the  language  of  the  church,  was 
used  in  exorcisms.     See  Ham.  p.  172,  note  on  Scholar. 

232.  A  man  may  live  as  quiet,  etc.     That  is,  to  live  in  hell  would  be  as 
quiet  as  to  live  in  a  sanctuary,  compared  with  living  where  she  is,  and 
people  sin  on  purpose  in  order  to  escape  her  in  that  way. 

240.  Toothpicker.      S.  also  uses  toothpick ;  as  in  A.  IV.  i.  I.  171,  K. 
John,  \.  I.  190,  etc. 

241.  Prester  Johrfs  foot.     Prester  or  Presbyter  John  was  a  mythical 
Christian  king  of  India.     Some  placed  his  dominions  in  Abyssinia;  Sir 
John  Mandeville  locates  them  in  an  island  called  Pentexoire.     The  dif- 
ficulty of  getting  access  to  him  is  referred  to  in  Hndibras : 

"  While  like  the  mighty  Prester  John, 
Whose  person  none  dares  look  upon, 
But  is  preserv'd  in  close  disguise 
From  being  made  cheap  to  vulgar  eyes." 

The  great  Cham  was  the  Khan  of  Tartary.  He  is  associated  with 
Prester  John  in  the  old  drama  of  Fortunatus : 

"  And  then  I  '11  revel  it  with  Prester  John, 
Or  banquet  with  great  Cham  of  Tartary." 

Steevens  quotes  Cartwright,  The  Siege,  1651  :  "bid  me  take  the  Parthi- 
an king  by  the  beard ;  or  draw  an  eye-tooth  from  the  jaw  royal  of  the 
Persian  monarch."  Cf.  the  old  romance  of  Huon  of  Bourdeaux:  "  Thou 
must  goe  to  the  citie  of  Babylon  to  the  Admiral  Gaudisse,  to  bring  me 


ACT  IL     SCENE  I. 


133 


thy  hand  full  of  the  heare  of  his  beard,  and  foure  of  his  greatest  teeth. 
Alas,  my  lord,  (quoth  the  Barrens,)  we  see  well  you  desire  greatly  his 
death,  when  you  charge  him  with  such  a  message." 

242.  The  Pigmies.  A  race  of  dwarfs  fabled  to  dwell  beyond  Mount 
Iinaus  in  India.  Their  wars  with  the  cranes  are  celebrated  in  a  poem 
ascribed  to  Homer.  Cf.  Milton,  P.  L.  i.  575  : 

"  that  small  infantry 
Warr'd  on  by  cranes  ;" 
and  Id.  i.  780  : 

"  like  that  Pygmean  race 
Beyond  the  Indian  mount." 

251.  Use.  Interest,  "  usance  "  (M.  of  V.  i.  3.  46,  109,  142).  Cf.  V.  and 
A.  768  :  "  But  gold  that  's  put  to  use  more  gold  begets;"  Sonn.  134.  10  : 
"  Thou  usurer,  that  put'st  forth  all  to  use,"  etc. 

263.  Civil  count.     Some  eds.  print  "civil,  count."     The  meaning  of 
civil  is  the  same  in  either  case,  and  is  perhaps  best  illustrated  by  Cot- 
grave's  definition  of  aigre-douce  as  a  "  civile  orange,  or  orange  that  is 
betweene  sweet  and  sower."     Cf.  Nash,  Four  Letters   Confuted,  1592  : 
"  For  the  order  of  my  life,  it  is  as  civil  as  an  orange."     There  is  an  ob- 
vious play  upon  civil  and  Seville.     J.  H.  explains  civil  as  "plain,"  and 
compares  the  use  of  the  word  as  applied  to  dress.     See  T.  N.  iii.  4.  5 
and  R.  and  J.  iii.  2.  10.     But  the  word  is  not  there —  "plain,  homely,"  as 
he  makes  it,  but  rather  =  grave,  sober;   that  is,  like  civilian  dress  as 
distinguished  from  military  dress  with  its  brighter  colours  and  showy 
trappings. 

264.  Jealous  complexion.     Cf.  the  use  of  yellowness^  jealousy,  in  M.  W. 
i.  3.  in. 

265.  Blazon.     "Explanation"    (Schmidt).     Cf.  Ham.  \.  5.  21  :   "this 
eternal  blazon  "  (this  unfolding  of  the  mysteries  of  eternity). 

266.  Conceit.     Conception,  idea.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  4.  2  : 

"  You  have  a  noble  and  a  true  conceit 
Of  godlike  amity,"  etc. 

273.  Cue.     See  Ham.  p.  213. 

281.  Poor  fool.  "Formerly  an  expression  of  tenderness  "  (Malone). 
Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  98,  T.  N.  v.  i.  377,  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  5.  36,  etc. 

285.  Good  Lord, for  alliance!     This  seems  to  mean  "Heaven  send 
me  a  husband  !"  (said  sportively,  of  course),  as  St.  explains  it ;  or  "  Good 
Lord,  how  many  alliances  are  forming !"  as  Boswell  gives  it. 

To  go  to  the  world  meant  to  marry;  perhaps  originally  in  distinction 
from  going  into  the  church,  where  celibacy  was  the  rule.  Cf.  A.  W.  i.  3. 
20 :  "  if  I  may  have  your  ladyship's  good  will  to  go  to  the  world,"  etc. 
.So  a  ivoman  of  the  world—  a  married  woman,  in  A.  Y.  L.  v.  3.  5. 

286.  Sun-burnt.     Apparently  =  "  homely,  ill-favoured,"  as  St.  explains 
it.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  i.  3.  282  : 

"  The  Grecian  dames  are  sun-burnt  and  not  worth 
The  splinter  of  a  lance." 

287.  Heigh-ho  for  a  husband!     The  title  of  an  old  ballad,  preserved 
.in  the  Pepysian  Collection,  Magdalene  College,  Cambridge   (Malone). 
Cf.  iii.  4.  48  below. 


T34  NOTES. 

296.  Matter.  Sense.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  i.  68 :  "  For  then  he  's  full  of 
matter ;"  Ham.  ii.  2.  95  :  "  More  matter  with  less  art ;"  Lear,  iv.  6.  178  : 
"  O  matter  and  impertinency  mix'd  !" 

306.  The  melancholy  element.     We  have  many  allusions  in  S.  to  the 
old  notion  that  all  things  were  composed  of  the  four  elements,  earth,  air, 
fire,  and  water.     See  J.  C.  p.  185  and  Hen.  V.  p.  169.     Cf.  also  So/in.  44. 
13,  45.  5,  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  292,  etc. 

307.  Sad.     Serious.     See  on  i.  i.  162  above. 

309.  Unhappiness.  Theo.  changed  this  to  "  an  happiness ;"  but  Warb. 
reminds  him  that  the  word  sometimes  meant  "a  wild,  wanton,  unlucky 
trick,"  and  quotes  B.  and  F.,  The  Maid  of  the  Mill: 

"  My  dreams  are  like  my  thoughts,  honest  and  innocent ; 
Yours  are  unhappy." 

Schmidt  -explains  unhappiness  here  as  "  wanton  or  mischievous  tricks," 
and  compares  unhappy  in  A.  W.  iv.  5.  66  :  "A  shrewd  knave  and  an 
unhappy  "  (that  is,  "  roguish,  full  of  tricks ").  Seymour  explains  the 
passage  thus  :  "  She  hath  often  dreamed  of  unhappiness,  which  yet  was 
so  short-lived  that  presently  she  was  merry  again  and  waked  herself 
with  laughing." 

311.  Hear  tell.  ''This  form  of  speech,  which  S.  constantly  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  personages  of  the  -highest  rank,  but  which  is  now  never 
heard  in  Old  England,  except  perhaps  in  the  remotest  rural  districts,  is 
in  common  use  in  New  England  "  (W.). 

317.  County.  The  quarto  has  " Countie,"  the  folio  "Counte."  See 
on  i.  i.  170  above. 

To  go  to  church.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  305  :  "  First  go  with  me  to  church 
and"  call  me  wife,"  etc. 

322.  A  just  seven-night.  An  exact  week.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iv.  I.  327 :  "  a 
just  pound." 

324.  Breathing.  Interval,  delay.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  1720:  "Untimely 
breathings." 

328.  Mountain  of  affection.  Johnson  was  sorely  troubled  by  this 
colloquial  expression,  and  suggested  "  mooting."  Steevens  and  Ma- 
lone  think  that  S.  may  have  written  it,  as  he  has  "  many  phrases 
equally  harsh."  The  discussion  fills  almost  a  page  of  the  Var.  ed.  of 
1821. 

340.  Strain.     Family,  lineage.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  51  :   "he  is  bred  out 


>  32 
9 :  "  bred  of  hellish  strene." 

Approved.  Proved,  tried.  Cf.  iv.  I.  44  below :  "  an  approved  wan- 
ton ;"  also  297  :  "  approved  in  the  height  a  villain,"  etc. 

344.  Queasy.  Squeamish,  fastidious.  Cf.  A.  and  C.  iii.  6.  20  :  "  queasy 
with  his  insolence  "  (that  is,  sick  of  it) ;  Lear,  ii.  I.  19  :  "  of  queasy  ques- 
tion" (  =  nice  question). 

SCENE  II.— i.  Shall  marry.  Is  to  marry.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  4.  88,  J.  C. 
i.  3.  87,  etc.  Gr.  315. 


ACT  II.    SCENE  III.  135 

5.  Medicinable.     Medicinal.     Cf.  T.*and  C.  i.  3.  91  :  "Sol  ...  whose 
medicinable  eye  ;"  Oth.  v.  2.  351  :  "  medicinable  gum  "  ("medicinal"  in 
quartos),  etc.     Gr.  3. 

Displeasure  to  him.  Cf.  "a  quarrel  to  you"  in  ii.  I.  213  above.  See 
also  Gr.  186.  We  find  "displeasure  at"  in  Per.  i.  3.  21,  and  "displeas- 
ure against  "  in  Temp.  iv.  i.  202,  A.  Y.  L.  i.  2.  90,  and  A.  W.  iv.  5.  80. 

6.  Affection.     Inclination,  wish.     Whatever  thwarts  his  wishes  agrees 
with  mine. 

19.   Temper.     Compound,  mix.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  98  : 
"  Madam,  if  you  could  find  out  but  a  man 
To  bear  a  poison,  I  would  temper  it  ;" 

Ham.  v.  2.  339  :  "  It  is  a  poison  temper'd  by  himself;"  Cymb.  v.  5.  250  : 
"  To  temper  poisons  for  her." 

22.  Estimation.     Worth,  merit  ;  as  in  A.  W.  v.  3.  4,  etc.     It  is  used  in 
a  concrete  sense  (=  thing  of  worth)  in  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  91  and  Cymb.  i.  4. 
99. 

23.  Stale.     Wanton,  harlot  ;  as  in  iv.  i.  62  below.     For  another  mean- 
ing, see  Temp.  p.  137. 

25.  Misuse.  Deceive.  Cf.  abuse  in  v.  2.  85  below  :  "  the  prince  and 
Claudio  mightily  abused."  Abuse  is  often  used  by  S.  in  this  sense,  mis- 
use only  in  the  present  passage. 

32.  Intend.  Pretend.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  121:  "Intending  weariness  with 
heavy  spright."  See  also  T.  of  S.  iv.  I.  206,  Rich.  III.  iii.  5.  8,  and  T.  of 
A.  ii.  2.  219.  On  the  other  \&x*&>  pretend  was  sometimes  —  intend  ;  as  in 
R.  of  L.  576,  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  6.  37,  etc. 

37.  Trial.  That  is,  verifying  it  by  their  own  observation.  Instances 
=  proofs  ;  as  in  M.  for  M.  iv.  3.  134,  T.  and  C.  v.  2.  153,  etc. 

39.  Term  me  Claudio.  Theo.  changed  Claudio  to  "  Borachio,"  but 
this  does  not  seem  necessary.  As  Malone  remarks,  Claudio  might 
suppose  that  his  rival  was  addressed  as  Claudio  in  consequence  of  a 
secret  agreement  between  the  guilty  pair,  in  order  to  prevent  suspicion 
if  Hero  should  be  overheard. 

45.  Grow  this.     Let  this  grow.     See  Gr.  361. 

46.  The  working  this.     We  should  now  say  either  "  working  this  "  or 
"the  working  of  this."     See  Gr.  373. 

50.  Presently.     See  on  i.  i.  74  above  ;  and  for^  learn,  on  i.  3.  65. 


SCENE  III.  —  4.  Orchard.     Garden.     See  on  i.  2.  8  above. 

10.  Argument.     Subject.     See  on  i.  I.  225  above. 

14.  Ten  mile.  Cf.  Macb.  v.  5.  37  :  "within  this  three  mile;"  and  see 
on  i.  i.  75  above. 

16.  Doublet.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  158. 

1  8.  Orthography.  The  abstract  for  the  concrete.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  i.  2. 
190:  "I  am  sure  I  shall  turn  sonnet."  Pope  changed  it  to  "orthogra- 
pher,"and  some  read  "  orthographist." 

19.  May.     Can.     See  Gr.  309,  and  cf.  307. 

26.  In  my  grace.     Into  my  favour.     For  /'//,  see  Gr.  159  ;  and  for  grace  ^ 
on  i.  3.  24  above. 

27.  mi  none.    I  '11  have  nothing  to  do  with  her.    See  on  ii.  i.  54  above. 


I36  NOTES. 

28.  Cheapen.     Chaffer  for,  bid  for.     Cf.  Per.  iv.  6.  10 :  "  cheapen  a  kiss 
of  her."     In  the  Shropshire  dialect  cheapen— 2^  the  price  of.     Cf.  Hey- 
wood,  Edward  IV. :  "  I  see  you  come  to  cheap,  and  not  to  buy."     Pals- 
grave gives,  "  I  cheape,  I  demaunde  the  price  of  a  thyng  that  I  wolde 
bye." 

29.  Noble  .  .  .  angel.     With  a  punning  reference  to  the  two  coins,  the 
noble  and  the  angel.     See  Rich.  II.  p.  219,  note  on  Thanks,  noble  peer. 
For  the  angel,  see  M.  of  V.  p.  144. 

30.  Her  hair,  etc.     That  is,  her  hair  shall  be  of  the  natural  colour,  not 
dyed  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time.     Stubbes,  in  his  Anatomie  of 
Abuses,  1595,  says:  "If  any  have  haire  of  her  owne  naturall  growing, 
which  is  not  faire  ynough,  then  will  they  die  it  in  divers  colours."     Or 
the  allusion  may  be  to  the  wearing  of  false  hair.     Cf.  iii.  4.  12  :  "I  like 
the   new  tire  within  excellently,  if  the  hair  were  a  thought  browner." 
For  the  poet's  antipathy  to  false  hair,  see  M.  of  V.  p.  149. 

32.  The  quarto  has  here  "  Enter  prince,  Leonato,  Claudia,  Musicke," 
and  six  lines  below  "Enter  Balthaser  with  musicke."  The  folio  has 
only  one  stage  -  direction  :  "Enter  Prince,  Leonato,  Claudia,  and  lacke 
Wilson."  This  shows  that  the  folio  was  printed  from  a  copy  of  the 
quarto  used  in  the  theatre,  Jack  Wilson  probably  being  the  singer  who 
took  the  part  of  Balthazar.  The  quarto  itself  would  appear  to  have 
been  printed  from  a  stage  copy  ;  for  in  iv.  2.  I  both  that  ed.  and  the  folio 
assign  the  speech  to  "  Keeper"  doubtless  a  misprint  for  Kemp,  who  is 
known  to  have  acted  the  part  of  Dogberry.  The  next  speech  is  also 
given  by  both  eds.  to  "  Cowley"  and  another  speech  of  Verges  (iv.  2.  5) 
is  assigned  to  the  same  actor.  See  also  on  iv.  2.  I  below. 

34.  Haw  still,  etc.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  v.  I.  56  : 

"  soft  stillness  and  the  night 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony." 

38.  Kid-fox.  Young  fox.  Warb.  changed  it  to  "  hid  fox,"  which  may 
be  what  S.  wrote. 

40.  Good  my  lord.     See  Gr.  13. 

41.  To  slander.     For  the  omission  of  as,  see  Gr.  281. 

44.  Woo.  Solicit,  urge.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  i.  3.  137  :  "Leave  me  alone  to 
woo  him  ;"  Oth.  iii.  3.  293  :  "  Wooed  me  to  steal  it,"  etc. 

53.  Nothing.  The  reading  of  the  early  eds.  changed  by  Theo.  to 
"noting  ;"  but,  as  W.  has  shown,  nothing  was  then  pronounced  noting, 
and  there  is  here  a  play  on  the  two  words,  as  on  Goths  and  goats  in  A. 
Y.  L.  iii.  3.  9  (see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  179).  Nothing  rhymes  with  doting 
in  Sonn.  20.  12. 

W.  sees  the  same  pun  in  the  title  of  the  play.  He  says  :  "  The  play 
is  Much  Ado  about  Nothing  only  in  a  very  vague  and  general  sense,  but 
Much  Ado  about  Noting  in  one  especially  apt  and  descriptive  ;  for  the 
much  ado  is  produced  entirely  by  noting.  It  begins  with  the  noting  of 
the  Prince  and  Claudio,  first  by  Antonio's  man,  and  then  by  Borachio, 
who  reveals  their  confidence  to  John  ;  it  goes  on  with  Benedick  noting 
the  Prince,  Leonato,  and  Claudio  in  the  garden,  and  again  with  Beatrice 
noting  Margaret  and  Ursula  in  the  same  place  ;  the  incident  upon  which 
its  action  turns  is  the  noting  of  Borachio's  interview  with  Margaret  by 


ACT  If.     SCENE  III.  137 

the  Prince  and  Claudio ;  and,  finally,  the  incident  which  reveals  the  plot 
is  the  noting  of  Borachio  and  Conrade  by  the  Watch."  Note  =  observe, 
watch,  is  common,  in  S.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  267  :  "  Slink  by  and  note 
him  ;"  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  251  :  "  Mark  him,  note  him,"  etc.  See  also  in  the 
present  play  i.  I.  145,  iv.  i.  156,  etc. 

54.  Divine  air!     Probably  meant  to  be  understood  as  a  quotation. 

55.  Guts.     The  word  was  not  so  offensive  in  the  time  of  S.  as  now. 
See  Ham.  p.  241.      Topsell,  in  his  Hist,  of  Four-footed  Beasts,  1607,  stat- 
ing the  uses  of  the  sheep,  gives  "  his  guts  and  intrals  for  musicke." 

Hale.  Draw  ;  etymologically  the  same  as  haul,  which  S.  does  not 
use,  unless,  with  Schmidt,  we  recognize  a  solitary  instance  in  2  Hen.  IV. 
v.  5.  37,  where  the  quarto  has  "  halde  "  and  the  folio  "hall'd."  Hale  is 
also  the  form  in  Milton  (P.  L.  ii.  596)  and  in  the  A.  V.  (Luke,  xii.  58,  Acts, 
viii.  3).  S.  uses  the  word  fifteen  times ;  and  he  apparently  uses  exhale 
as  if  it  were  a  derivative  of  hale  (=draw  out),  as  in  Rich.  III.  i.  2.  58, 
1 66,  etc. 

On  the  effect  of  music  here,  cf.  T.  N.  ii.  3.  60 :  "a  catch  that  will 
draw  three  souls  out  of  one  weaver." 

56.  When  all  'j  done.     After  all.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  i.  16  :  "  I  believe 
we  must  leave  the  killing  out,  when  all  is  done."     See  also  T.  N.  ii.  3. 
31  and  Macb.  iii.  4.  67. 

65.  Aloe.     An  old  form  used  very  often  by  S.  but  generally  changed 
to  more  by  the  modern  editors,  unless  it  is  necessary  for  the  rhyme,  as 
here  and  in  R.  of  L.  1479.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  176. 

66.  Dumps.     Low  spirits,  melancholy  ;  as  in  T.  A.  i.  I.  391,  R.  and  J. 
iv.  5.  129,  etc.     It  is  used  by  S.  in  this  sense  only  in  the  plural ;  but  the 
singular  is  found  in  other  writers.     Cf.  Harrington,  Ariosto :  "  Strake 
them   into   a  dumpe,  and  made   them   sad;"  Hall,  Homer:  "Leaving 
Prince  Agamemnon  then  in  dumpe  and  in  suspense,"  etc.     Dump  also 
meant  a  melancholy  strain  of  music.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  2.  85  :  "  Tune  a 
deploring  dump."     See  also  R.  and  J.  iv.  5.  108  and  R.  of  L.  1127.     It 
was  also  sometimes  applied  to  an  elegy.     Davies  of  Hereford  has  one 
entitled  "A  Dump  upon  the  Death  of  the  most  noble  Henrie,  Earle  of 
Pembroke." 

68.  Leavy.  The  regular  form  of  the  word  in  S.  and  here  required  by 
the  rhyme. 

76.  Bode  no  mischief.     The  howling  of  a  dog  was  deemed  an  ill  omen. 

Had  as  lief.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  139. 

Night-raven.  Either  the  owl,  or,  as  some  explain  it,  the  night-heron 
(Ardea  nycticorax}.  It  is  probably  the  same  as  the  "  night-crow  "  of  3 
Hen.  VI.  v.  6.  45.  Cf.  Milton,  L 'All.  7  :  "  And  the  night-raven  sings  ;" 
B. ].,  Poetaster :  "The  dismall  night-raven  and  tragicke  owle." 

83.  To-day,  that.  The  pointing  of  the  early  eds.,  followed  by  the 
Camb.  editors  and  some  others.  Most  of  the  modern  eds.  print  "  to- 
day ?  that,"  etc. 


in  the  fenne  countries  and  els -where,  that  doe  shoot  at  woodcockes, 


138  NOTES. 

snipes,  and  wilde  fowle,  by  sneaking  behind  a  painted  cloth  which  they 
carrey  before  them,  having  pictured  in  it  the  shape  of  a  horse ;  which 
while  the  silly  fowle  gazeth  on,  it  is  knockt  down  with  hale  shot,  and  so 
put  in  the  fowler's  budget." 

90.  Sits  the  wind,  etc.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  i.  18  :  "to  know  where  sits  the 
wind  ;"  Ham.  i.  3.  56  :  "The  wind  sits  in  the  shoulder  of  your  sail, "etc. 

91.  Some  point  the  passage  thus:  "I  cannot  tell  what  to  think  of 
it ;  but  that  she  loves  him  with  an  enraged  affection, — it  is  past  the  in- 
finite of  thought."     EnrAged=\saA^  intense.     Infinite— infinite  stretch, 
utmost  power. 

97.  Came.  For  the  omission  of  the  relative,  see  Gr.  244.  Discovers 
= shows.  Cf.  i.  2.  10  above  ;  also  142  and  iii.  2.  82  below. 

101.  Sit  you.     For  you,  see  Gr.  220. 

105.  Would.  Apparently  used  for  should;  but  Abbott  (Gr.  331)  ex- 
plains it  "  I  was  willing  and  prepared  to  think,"  etc. 

112.  Hold  it  up.  Keep  it  up,  continue  it.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  239: 
"  hold  the  sweet  jest  up  ;"  Ham.  v.  i.  34  :  "they  hold  up  Adam's  profes- 
sion," etc. 

122.    Writ.     For  the  form,  see  Ham.  p.  178  or  Gr.  343. 

128.  That.     For  this  affirmative  use  of  that,  cf.  J.  C.  ii.  1. 15  :  "  Crown 
him?     That." 

129.  Halfpence.     That  is,  pieces  as  small  as  halfpence  ;  but  Theo.  ex- 
plains it  as  "pieces  of  the  same  bigness"  and  compares  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2. 
372  :  "all  like  one  another,  as  halfpence  are."     The  old  silver  halfpenny 
was  smaller  than  our  half-dime. 

130.  To  write.     That  is,  as  to  write.     See  on  .41  above. 

135.  Cries.  The  early  eds.  have  "  curses,"  which  seems  out  of  place 
here.  Cries  is  the  very  plausible  emendation  of  the  Coll.  MS.,  and  is 
adopted  by  W.  and  H.  Perhaps  S.  wrote  "  curses,  prays,"  and  the  print- 
er accidentally  transposed  the  words. 

138.  Ecstasy.     Madness,  passion.     See  Ham.  p.  201  or  Macb.  p.  211. 
Overborne.     Overcome.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  I.  92,  Hen.  V.  iv.  chor.  39,  etc. 

139.  Afeard.     Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  afraid.     See  M.  N.  D. 
p.  156  or  Macb.  p.  163. 

145.  An  alms.     A  charity,  a  good  deed.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  alms- 
deed,"  which  W.  and  H.  adopt ;  but  this  use  of  alms  is  natural  enough 
in  itself  and  not  without  precedent  in  our   old  literature.      Halliwell 
quotes  the  interlude  of  The  Disobedient  Child:  "It  were  almes,  by  my 
trothe,  thou  were  well  beaten." 

146.  Excellent.     An  adverb,  as  often.     Cf.  iii.  i.  98  below  :  "  an  excel- 
lent good  name,"  etc.     Exceeding  (148)  is  also  much  used  in  the  same 
way.     Gr.  i. 

150.  Blood.     See  on  ii.  i.  162  above. 

154.  Dotage.     Doting  affection  ;  as  in  198  below.     See  also  M.  N.  D. 
iv.  i.  52,  Oth.  iv.  i.  27,  A.  and  C.  i.  !.  i,  etc. 

155.  Daffed.     The  same  as  doff=do  off.     Here  it  means  to  put  aside, 
as  in  v.  I.  78  below.     It  is  used  literally  in  A.  and  C.  iv.  4.  13  : 

"  He  that  unbuckles  this,  till  we  do  please 
To  daff  't  for  our  reix>se,  shall  hear  a  storm.'* 


ACT  II.    SCENE  III.  I39 

165.  Contemptible.    Contemptuous.     Cf.  medicinable,  ii.  2.  5  above.    On 
the  other  hand,  contemptuous  is  sometimes  used  in  the  sense  of  contempt- 
ible ;  as  in  2  Hen.  VI.  \.  3.  86  :  "  Contemptuous  base-born  callet  as  she 
is." 

166.  Proper.     Good-looking,  handsome  ;  as  in  M.  A7".  D.  i.  2.  88,  M.  of 
V.  i.  2.  77,  etc. 

167.  A  good  outward  happiness.     "  A  happy  e'xterior,  a  prepossessing 
appearance"  (Schmidt).      Cf.  "excellent  differences  "  =  different  excel- 
lencies, in  Ham.  v.  2.  112,  and  see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  271. 

1 68.  Fore.     See  Hen  V.  p.  155. 

171.  Wit.  Wisdom,  intellectual  power;  as  the  connection  shows. 
See  on  i.  i.  57  above,  and  cf.  213  below. 

181.  Large.  Free,  broad.  Cf.  iv.  i.  49  below  :  "  I  never  tempted  her 
with  word  too  large,"  eta 

185.   Counsel.  "  Reflection,  deliberation  "  (Schmidt). 

189.  Let  it  cool  the  while.  Let  it  rest  meanwhile.  Cf.  iii.  2.  115  below  : 
"bear  it  coldly  but  till  midnight." 

191.  Unworthy.     The  folio  has  "  unworthy  to  have^" 

196.  Carry.  Carry  out,  manage.  Cf.  iv.  I.  208  below  :  "this  well  car- 
ried," etc.  See  also  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  240,  T.  N.  iii.  4.  150,  etc. 

198.  And  no  such  matter.    And  it  is  nothing  of  the  kind,  it  is  not  so  at 
all.     Cf.  Sonn.  87.  14  :    "  In  sleep  a  king,  but  waking  no  such  matter." 
See  also  i.  i.  168  above  and  v.  4.  82  below. 

199.  Merely.     Entirely.     See  Temp.  p.  in  or  J.  C.  p.  129. 

A  dumb  show.  A  pantomime  ;  like  that  introduced  in  Ham.  iii.  2  be- 
fore the  play,  and  in  Per.  at  the  beginning  of  act  iii. ' 

201.  The  conference  was  sadly  borne.  The  conversation  was  seriously 
carried  on.  See  on  sad,  i.  I.  162  above. 

204.  Have  their  full  bent.     Are  at  their  utmost  tension ;  a  metaphor 
taken  from  the  bending  of  a  bow.     Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  4.  38 : 

"Then  let  thy  love  be  younger  than  thyself, 
Or  thy  affection  cannot  hold  the  bent." 

205.  Censiired.     Judged,  estimated.     Cf.  Cor.  ii.  i.  25  :  "  do  you  two 
know  how  you  are  censured  here  in  the  city?"  J.  C.  iii.  2.  16 :  "censure 
me  in  your  wisdom,  and  awake  your  senses  that  you  may  the  better 
judge,"  etc.     See  also  on  the  noun  in  Macb.  p.  251  or  Ham.  p.  190. 

211.  Reprove.  Disprove,  confute.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  787:  "What  have 
you  urg'd  that  I  cannot  reprove?"  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  1.40:  "Reprove  my 
allegation,  if  you  can." 

213.  Argument.  Proof.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  i.  2.  175  :  "a  great  argument  of 
falsehood,"  etc. 

218.  Quips.     Sarcasms.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  2.  12 : 

"all  her  sudden  quips, 
The  least  whereof  would  quell  a  lover's  hope ;" 

Milton,  L'AH.  27  :  "  Quips,  and  cranks,  and  wanton  wiles,"  etc. 

Sentences.  Maxims.  Cf.  R.  of  L.  244:  "a  sentence  or  an  old  man's 
saw  ;"  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  1 1  :  "  Good  sentences,"  etc. 

232.  Choke  a  daw.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  not  choke,"  which  H.  (school 
ed.)  adopts,  though  not  without  hesitation.  As  the  difference  between 


140 


NOTES. 


the  maximum  that  would  not  choke  and  the  minimum  that  would  is 
practically  nil,  the  emendation  seems  a  most  superfluous  one. 

Withal— with.  Cf.  i.  2.  18  above,  where  it  is  — with  it.  For  stomach, 
see  on  i.  3.  14  above. 

239.  y4  y<??£>.  Often  used  in  this  contemptuous  way.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  ii. 
2.  119 :  "1  am  a  Jew  if  I  serve  the  Jew  any  longer ;"  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4. 
198  :  "  I  am  a  Jew  else,  an  Ebrew  Jew,"  etc. 


ACT  III. 

SCENE  I. — I.   Thee.     Apparently—  thou.     See  Gr.  212. 

3.  Proposing.     Conversing ;  from  the  Yr.propos,  discourse,  talk  (Stee- 
vens).     Cf.  the  use  of  the  noun  in  12  just  below.     §Q  proposer  —  speaker, 
orator,  in  Ham.  ii.  2.  297. 

4.  Whisper  her  ear.     Cf.  A.  W.  ii.  3.  75  :  "  The  blushes  in  my  cheeks 
thus  whisper  me  f   W.  T.  i.  2.  437  :  "  Your  followers  I  will  whisper  to 
the  business,"  etc.     See  Gr.  200. 

7.  Pleached.     See  on  thick-pleached,  i.  2.  8  above. 

8.  Honeysuckles.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  173. 

'  12.  Propose.  The  quarto  reading ;  the  folio  has  "  purpose,"  which 
Reed  defends  as  sometimes  used  in  the  same  sense.  He  quotes  Knox's 
Reformation  in  Scotland:  "with  him  six  persons;  and  getting  entrie, 
held  purpose  with  the  porter ;"  and  again  :  "  After  supper  he  held  com- 
fortable purpose  of  God's  chosen  children."  Propose  is,  however,  gen- 
erally adopted  by  the  editors.  For  listen,  see  Gr.  199. 

1 6.  Trace.    Walk,  pace.    Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  25 :  "trace  the  forests  wild." 

24.  Lapwing.     See  Ham.  p.  272. 

25.  Conference.     See  on  ii.  3.  202  above. 

36.  Haggards.     Wild  or  untrained  hawks.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  i.  196  : 

."Another  way  I  have  to  man  my  haggard, 

To  make  her  come  and  know  her  keeper's  call ;" 

Id.  iv.  2.  39  :  "  this  proud  disdainful  haggard  ;"   T.  N.  Hi.  I.  71  : 

"And,  like  the  haggard,  check  at  every  feather 
That  comes  before  his  eye." 

In  Oth.  iii.  3.  260,  the  word  is  used  as  an  adjective  =  wild,  untractable. 
42.    Wish.     Desire,  bid.     Cf.  M.for  M.  v.  I.  79  : 

Duke.  You  were  not  bid  to  speak. 
Lucio.  No,  my  good  lord  ; 

Nor  wish'd  to  hold  my  peace." 

For  wrestle  .  .  .  to  let,  see  Gr.  349. 

45.  As  full  as  fortunate.  P'ully  as  fortunate  (St.,  Camb.  ed.,  and 
Schmidt).  Most  eds.  point  "  as  full,  as  fortunate."  Both  quarto  and 
folio  have  "as  full  as." 

50.  Of  prouder  stuff.     Cf.  J.  C.  iii.  2.  97  :  "Ambition  should  be  made 
of  sterner  stuff."     See  also  Ham.  iii.  4.  36,  iv.  7.  31,  etc. 

51.  Disdain  and  scorn,  etc.     Cf.  Euphues  Golden  Legacie,  1590  :  "  Her 


ACT  III.    SCENE  L  141 

eyes  were  like  those  lampes  that  make  the  wealthie  covert  of  the  Heav- 
ens more  gorgeous,  sparkling  favour  and  disdaine,  courteous  and  yet 
coye,  as  if  in  them  Venus  had  placed  all  her  amorets,  and  Diana  all  her 
chastitie." 

52.  Misprising.  Slighting,  despising.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  i.  I.  177  :  "I  am 
altogether  misprised  ;"  Id.  i.  2.  192  :  "your  reputation  shall  not  there- 
fore be  misprised,"  etc.  So  misprision^ contempt  in  A.  W.  ii.  3.  159. 

54.  Weak.     "  Almost =stupid"  (Schmidt).      Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  374: 
"  Your  wit  makes  wise  things  foolish." 

55.  Project.     Idea  (Schmidt). 

56.  Self-endeared.     Self-loving,  absorbed  in  love  of  self. 

60.  How.     However.     Cf.  Sonn.  28.  8 :  "  How  far  I  toil,  still  farther 
off  from  thee ;"  Cymb.  iv.  2.  17:  "How  much  the  quantity,  the  weight 
as  much,"  etc.     See  Gr.  46. 

6 1.  Spell  him  backward.     Misconstrue  him  ;  "  alluding  to  the  practice 
of  witches  in  uttering  prayers"  (Steevens). 

63.  Black.  Dark-complexioned.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  v.  2.  12 :  "Black 
men  are  pearls  in  beauteous  ladies'  eyes." 

Drawing  of.  For  the  of,  see  Gr.  178.  An  antic  was  a  buffoon.  §ee 
Rich.  II.  p.  192. 

65.  Low.  For  low  as  opposed  to  tall,  cf.  i.  i.  152  above.  See  also 
M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  295  fol. 

An  agate.  Alluding  to  the  figures  cut  in  the  agates  set  in  rings.  Cf. 
L.  L.  L.  ii.  i.  236  :  "  His  heart,  like  an  agate,  with  your  print  impress'd  ;" 
2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  19  :  "I  was  never  manned  with  an  agate  till  now." 
Warb.  wished  to  read  "  aglet "  (the  Fr.  aiguillette}. 

70.  Simpleness.     Simplicity,  innocence.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  83  :  "sim- 
pleness  and  duty;"  A.  W.  i.  I.  51  :  "the  better  for  their  simpleness." 
In  R.  and  J.  iii.  3.  77  it  means  silliness. 

71.  Commendable.    Accented  on  the  first  syllable,  as  regularly  in  S.,  ex- 
cept in  M.  of  V.  i.  i.  in,  which  Schmidt  considers  doubtful.    Abbott  (Gr. 
490)  also  excepts  Ham.  i.  2.  87,  but  the  other  accent  seems  better  there. 

72.  Not.     Mason  and  Capell  read  "nor,"  and  Rowe  "for." 

From  all  fashions.  Averse  to  the  ordinary  ways  of  people,  for  from 
=  away  from,  out  of,  cf.  Temp.  i.  i.  65  :  "  Which  is  from  my  remem- 
brance ;"  J.  C.  i.  3.  35  :  "  Clean  from  the  purpose"  (see  also  Ham.  iii.  2. 
22),  etc.  There  is  a  play  upon  this  sense  of  from  in  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  192 
and  Rich.  ///.  iv.  4.  258. 

76.  Press  me  to  death.  Alluding  to  the  ancient  punishment  of  the  peine 
forte  et  dure,  or  pressing  to  death  by  heavy  weights  laid  upon  the  body. 
CLM.forM.  v.  i.  528:  "pressing  to  death,  whipping,  and  hanging;"  Rich. 
II.  iii.  4.  72 :  "I  am  press'd  to  death  through  want  of  speaking,"  etc. 

79.  //  were  a  better  death,  etc.  The  reading  of  the  quarto,  which  has 
"then,"  the  old  form  of  than.  The  1st  folio  reads  "a  better  death,  to 
die  ;"  and  the  2d  folio  "a  bitter  death  to  die."  W.  adopts  this  last  read- 
ing, on  the  ground  that  the  one  in  the  text  "can  only  refer  to  Benedick's 
consuming  away  in  sighs;  whereas  it  is  herself  that  Hero  represents  as 
being  in  clanger  of  being  pressed  to  death  with  wit,  if  she  reveal  Bene- 
dick's passion,  and  '  therefore?  she  says,  Met  Benedick  consume,'  etc/' 


142 


NOTES. 


But  when  Hero  speaks  of  being  pressed  to  death  with  wit,  it  is  a  mere 
feminine  hyperbole;  she  has  of  course  no  real  fear  of  such  a  death.  Her 
thoughts  then  turn  to  Benedick,  who,  like  herself,  would  be  exposed  to  the 
mocks  of  Beatrice  if  his  passion  became  known  to  her;  and  she  says,  nat- 
urally enough,  Better  let  him  die  of  secret  love  than  of  Beatrice's  scorn. 
The  transition  is  as  thoroughly  feminine  as  the  form  of  expression. 

80.  Tickling.  Metrically  a  trisyllable,  like  handling  in  2  Hen.  IV. 
iv.  I.  161,  tacklings  in  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  4.  1 8,  etc.  See  Gr.  477. 

89.  Swift.     Ready  ;  as  in  A.  Y.  L.  v.  4.  65  :  "  he  is  very  swift  and  sen- 
tentious," etc. 

90.  Priz'd.    Estimated ;  as  in  iv.  I.  216  below :  "what  we  have  we  prize 
not  to  the  worth."     See  also  T.  and  C.  iv.  4.  136,  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  224,  etc. 

96.  Argument.  "  Discourse,  or  the  powers  of  reasoning "  (Johnson 
and  Schmidt). 

101.  Every  day,  to-morroiv.  "Every  day  after  to-morrow;  a  play  on 
the  question"  (St.) 

103.  Furnish.    Dress.    Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  258:  "  furnished  like  a  hunt- 
ex  ;"  R.  and  J.  iv.  2.  35  : 

"  such  needful  ornaments 
As  you  think  fit  to  furnish  me  to-morrow." 

104.  Lim*d.     Ensnared  as  with  birdlime.     For  the  metaphor,  cf.  T.  N. 
iii.  4.  82  :  "I  have  limed  her  ;"  Ham.  iii.  3.  68  : 

"  O  limed  soul  that,  struggling  to  be  free, 
Art  more  engag'd !" 

See  also  R.  of  L.  88,  Macb.  iv.  2.  34,  etc.  For  lim'd  the  folio  has  "  tane." 
107.  What  fire  is  in  mine  ears  ?  Warb.  sees  here  an  allusion  to  the 
vulgar  notion  that  the  ears  burn  when  other  people  are  talking  of  us. 
As  Reed  notes,  the  .idea  is  very  ancient,  being  mentioned  by  Pliny.  Cf. 
Holland's  translation:  "Moreover  is  not  this  an  opinion  generally  re- 
ceived, That  when  our  ears  do  glow  and  tingle,  some  there  be  that  in  our 
absence  doe  talke  of  us  ?"  Steevens  quotes  The  Castdl  of  Courtesie,  1582 : 

"  That  I  doe  credite  giue 

vnto  the  saying  old, 
Which  is,  when  as  the  eares  doe  burne, 
some  thing  on  thee  is  told." 

We  are  inclined  to  think,  with  Schmidt,  that  Beatrice  does  not  refer  to 
the  proverb,  but  means  simply  "  What  fire  pervades  me  by  what  I  have 
heard !" 

no.  No  glory  lives,  etc.  "The  proud  and  contemptuous  are  never  ex- 
tolled in  their  absence"  (St.).  The  Coll.  MS.  reads  "  but  in  the  lack." 

112.  Taming,  etc.  "This  image  is  taken  from  falconry.  She  had 
been  charged  with  being  as  wild  as  haggards  of  the  rock ;  she  therefore 
says  that,  wild  as  her  heart  is,  she  will  tame  it  to  the  Hand"  (Johnson). 

1 1 6.  Reportingly.     On  hearsay. 

SCENE  II. — i.  Consummate.     For  the  form,  cf.  M.for  M.  v.  I.  383  : 

f'  Do  you  the  office,  friar  ;  which  consummate, 

Return  him  here  again/' 
See  Gr.  342. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  If.  143 

3.  Bring.  Accompany.  Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  3.  122  :  "  Shall  I  bring  thee  on 
the  way  ?"  See  also  Gen.  xviii.  16,  Acts,  xxi.  5,  etc.  Vouchsafe— allow  ; 
as  in  C.  of  E.  v.  I.  282 :  •'  vouchsafe  me  speak  a  word,"  etc. 

5.  The  new  gloss,  etc.  Cf.  Macb.  \.  7.  34:  "Which  would  be  worn 
now  in  their  newest  gloss  ;"  Oth.  i.  3.  227  :  "  the  gloss  of  your  new  fort- 
unes." 

As  to  show  a  child,  etc.     Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  2.  29  : 

"As  is  the  night  before  some  festival 
To  an  impatient  child  that  hath  new  robes 
And  may  not  wear  them." 

7.   Only.     That  is,  only  for  his  company.     See  on  ii.  i.  123  above. 

10.  Hangman.    Cf.  M.  of  V.  iv.  I.  125  :  "the  hangman's  axe  ;"  and  see 
note  in  our  ed.  p.  157.     D.  thinks  it  possible  that  hangman  in  the  present 
passage  may  be=rascal,  rogue,  as  Johnson  explains  it  in  his  Diet.     It  is 
certain  that  the  word, having  come  to  mean  "an  executioner  in  general," 
was  afterwards  used  as  a  general  term  of  reproach.     It  was  also  used 
sportively  in  this  sense,  and  Nares  gives  this  passage  as  an  instance. 
He  also  cites  Hey  wood,  I  Edward  IV.  v.  3  : 

"  How  dost  thou,  Tom  ?  and  how  doth  Ned?  quoth  he  ; 
That  honest,  merry  hangman,  how  doth  he  ?" 

11.  As  a  bell,  etc.      "A  covert  allusion  to  the  old  proverb,  'As  the 
fool  thinketh,  so  the  bell  clinketh '  "  (Steevens).     Sound  as  a  bell  was  a 
common  expression,  of  which  Halliwell  gives  many  examples. 

19.   The  toothache.     Boswell  quotes  B.  and  F.,  The  False  One: 

"  You  had  best  be  troubled  with  the  toothache  too, 
For  lovers  ever  are." 

22.  Hang  it  first,  and  draw  it  afterwards.  A  quibbling  allusion  to 
"hanging,  drawing,  and  quartering."  Cf.  M.for  M.  ii.  i.  215  :  "they  will 
draw  you,  Master  Froth,  and  you  will  hang  them  ;"  K.  John,  ii.  i.  504 : 

"  Drawn  in  the  flattering  table  of  her  eye  ! 
Hang'd  in  the  frowning  wrinkle  of  her  brow  I 
And  quarter' d  in  her  heart !" 

24.  Worm.     A  worm  at  the  root  of  the  tooth  was  formerly  supposed 
to  be  the  cause  of  toothache.     Cf.  Bartholomseus,  De  Prop.  Rerum,  1535  : 
"some  tyme  by  wormes  they  [the  teeth]  ben  chaunged  into  yelow  col- 
our, grene,  or  black :  all  this  cometh  of  corrupt  and  evyll  humours ;" 
and  again :   "  Wormes  of  the  teethe  ben  slayne  with  myrre  and  opium." 

25.  Can.     Pope's  correction  of  the  "cannot"  of  the  early  eds. 

28.  Fancy.  Love  ;  as  often.  See  M.  of  V.  p.  148  or  M.  N.  D.  p.  129. 
Don  Pedro  plays  upon  the  word. 

31.  Two  countries  at  once.      Steevens  quotes  Dekker,  Seven  deadly 
Sinnes  of  London,  1606:  "For  an  Englishman's  sute  is  like  a  traitor's 
body  that  hath  been  hanged,  drawne,  and  quartered,  and  is  set  up  in 
severall  places  :  his  codpiece  is  in  Denmarke  :  the  collor  of  his  dublet 
and  the  belly,  in   France :  the  wing  and  narrow  sleeve,  in  Italy :  the 
short  waste  hangs  oner  a  Dutch  botcher's  stall  in  Utrich :   his  huge 
sloppes  speaks  Spanish  :  Polonia  gives  him  the  bootes,"  etc. 

32.  Slops.     Large  loose  breeches  ;  as  in  the  passage  just  quoted.     Cf. 


144 


NOTES. 


2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  34  :  "  my  short  cloak  and  my  slops  ;"  JR.  and  J.  ii.  4.  47  : 
"your  French  slop."     Steevens  quotes  B.  J.,  Alchemist: 

"six  great  slops 
Bigger  than  three  Dutch  hoys." 

No  doublet.  M.  Mason  thought  this  should  be  "all  doublet,"  to  cor- 
respond with  the  actual  dress  of  the  old  Spaniards.  Steevens  says  : 
"no  doublet;  or,  in  other  words,  all  cloak." 

The  passage  Or  in  the  shape  .  .  .  no  doublet  was  omitted  in  the  folio, 
probably  to  avoid  giving  offence  to  the  Spaniards,  with  whom  James  be- 
came a  friend  in  1604  (Malone). 

41.  Stuffed  tennis  balls.  Steevens  cites  Nash,  Wonderful  Prognostica- 
tion for  1591  :  "they  may  sell  their  haire  by  the  pound,  to  stuffe  tennice 
balls;"  and  Henderson  adds  Ram  Alley,  1611  :  "Thy  beard  shall  serve 
to  stuff  those  balls  by  which  I  get  me  heat  at  tenice  ;"  and  The  Gentle 
Craft,  1600  :  "  He  '11  shave  it  off,  and  stuffe  tenice  balls  with  it." 

49.  Note.     Mark,  sign.     Cf.  W.  T.\.  2.  287  :  "  a  note  infallible  ;"  Hen. 
V.  iv.  chor.  25  :  "  Upon  his  royal  face  there  is  no  note,"  etc. 

The  quarto  assigns  this  speech  to  "2?<?;^.,"the  folio  to  "  Prin" 

50.  To  wash  his  face.     "That  the  benign  effect  of  the  tender  passion 
upon  Benedick  in  this  regard  should  be  so  particularly  noticed  requires, 
perhaps,  the  remark  that  in  Shakespeare's  time  our  race  had  not  aban- 
doned itself  to  that  reckless  use  of  water,  either  for  ablution  or  potation, 
which  has  more  recently  become  one  of  its  characteristic  traits"  (W.). 

.54.  A  lute-string.  Love-songs  were  then  generally  sung  to  the  music 
of  the  lute.  Cf.  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  84 :  "a  lover's  lute."  The  stops  of  a  lute 
were  "  small  lengths  of  wire  on  which  the  fingers  press  the  strings " 
(Busby).  They  were  also  called/r<?fr.  See  Ham.  p.  230,  note  on  Fret. 

55.   Conclude.     The  folio  does  not  repeat  the  word. 

60.  Conditions.     Qualities  ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  iv.  I.  108,  A.  W.  iv.  3.  288,  etc. 

62.  Face  upwards.     Theo.  wanted  to  read  "heels  upwards"  or  "face 
downwards,"  and  Johnson  and  Steevens  favoured  the  change ;  but  the 
true  interpretation  is  probably  suggested  by  W.  T.  iv.  4.  131  and  Per.  v. 

3-43- 

63.  Charm  for  the  toothache.     Scot,  in   his  Discover ie  of  Witchcraft, 
1584,  gives  many  charms  for  the  toothache,  one  of  which  is  the  repeat- 
ing of  the  following  formula  :  "  Strigiles  faicesque  dentatce,  dentium  dolo- 
rem  persanate — O  horsse-combs  and  sickles  that  have  so  many  teeth, 
come  heale  me  now  of  my  toothach." 

65.  Hobby-horses.  For  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word,  see  Ham.  p. 
225.  It  was  used  figuratively  as  a  term  of  familiarity  or  of  contempt. 
Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iii.  I.  31,  W.  T.  \.  2.  276,  and  Oth.  iv.  I.  160. 

67.    To  break  with.     See  on  i.  I.  275  above. 

72.   Good  den.     Good  evening.     See  Hen.  V.  p.  164,  note  on  God-den. 

82.  Discover.     Reveal.     See  on  i.  2.  10  above. 

84.  Aim  better  at  me.     Form  a  better  opinion  of  me.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V. 
iii.  I.  45  :  "  That  my  discovery  be  not  aimed  at "  (that  is,  guessed  at, 
suspected).     See  also  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  65  and  Ham.  iv.  5.  9. 

85.  For.     As  for,  as  regards.     Gr.  149. 

Holds  you  well.     Thinks  well  of  you.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  3.  190  :  "  'T  is 


ACT  III.    SCENE  III.  145 

said  he  holds  you  well "  (see  also  iv.  I.  77) ;  Oth.  i.  3.  396 :  "  He  holds 
me  well." 

86.  In  dearuess  of  heart.  Out  of  love  to  you.  For  holp,  see  on  i.  I. 
43  above. 

89.  Circumstances  shortened.     Not  to  go  into  particulars.     Schmidt 
makes  it  =  without  ceremony.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  v.  i.  28:  "To  leave  frivolous 
circumstances,"  etc. 

90.  A  talking  of.     Cf.  Temp.  ii.  I.  185  :  "go  a  bat-fowling,"  etc.     Gr. 
140. 

105.  Trust  that  you  see,  etc.  For  the  omission  of  the  relative,  espe- 
cially frequent  after  the  demonstrative  that,  see  Gr.  244. 

115.  Bear  it  coldly.  Keep  quiet  about  it.  Cf.  ii.  3.  189  above:  "let 
it  cool  the  while."  For  midnight  the  folio  has  "  night." 

117.  Untawardly.  Perversely,  unluckily.  S.  uses  the  word  nowhere 
else,  but  he  has  untoward  (  =  refractory,  unmannerly)  in  T.  of  S.  iv.  5.  79 
and  K.  John,  i.  i.  243. 

SCENE  III. — Dogberry  gets  his  name  from  a  shrub  growing  in  the 
hedges  throughout  England,  and  Verges  is  the  provincial  pronunciation 
of  verjuice  (Steevens).  Halliwell  says  that  Dogberry  occurs  as  a  sur- 
name in  a  charter  of  the  time  of  Richard  II.,  and  Varges  as  that  of  a 
usurer  in  MS.  Ashmol.  38,  where  this  epitaph  is  given :  "  Here  lyes  fa- 
ther Varges,  who  died  to  save  charges."  .  ' 

7.  Give  them  their  charge.  As  Malone  remarks,  to  charge  his  fellows 
seems  to  have  been  a  regular  part  of  the  duty  of  the  constable  of  the 
watch.  Cf.  Marston,  Insatiate  Countess:  "  Come  on,  my  hearts  :  we  are 
the  city's  security ;  I  '11  give  you  your  charge." 

10.  George.  Halliwell  reads  "  Francis,"  supposing  him  to  be  the  per- 
son mentioned  in  iii.  5.  52  below ;  but  that  is  not  certain. 

13.    Well-favoured.     Good-looking.     See  onfavottr,  ii.  i.  81  above. 

21.  Lantern.  Spelt  "  lanthorn  "  in  the  early  eds.  The  sides  of  the 
lantern  were  then  made  of  horn,  and  that  may  have  suggested  the  or- 
thography, though  it  has  no  connection  with  the  etymology  of  the  word. 
Cf.  the  quibble  in  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  55  :  "  he  hath  the  horn  of  abundance, 
and  the  lightness  of  his  wife  shines  through  it."  The  lantern,  like  the 
bill  and  bell,  was  a  part  of  the  regular  equipment  of  the  watch.  Cf. 
Wit  in  a  Constable,  1639  : 

"  You  're  chatting  wisely  o'er  your  bills  and  lanthorns, 
As  becomes  watchmen  of  discretion. " 

31.  No  noise.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  4.  40  :  "Dun  's  the  mouse  [apparently 
—  keep  still],  the  constable's  own  word." 

38.  Bills.  The  bill  was  a  kind  of  pike  or  halberd,  formerly  the  weap- 
on of  the  English  infantry.  See  Rich.  II.  p.  190.  Johnson  says  that  it 
was  still  carried  by  the  watchmen  of  Lichfield  in  his  day.  Steevens 
quotes  Arden  of  Fever  sham,  1592  : 

"the  watch 
Are  coming  toward  our  house  with  glaives  and  bills." 

44.  Not  the  men,  etc.  Halliwell  says  that  this  was  the  usual  excuse 
made  by  the  constables  when  they  had  searched  innocent  persons. 

K 


146  NOTES. 

53.  They  that  touch  pitch.  A  popular  proverb,  found  in  Ecclesiasticus^ 
xiii.  I  :  "  He  that  toucheth  pitch  shall  be  defiled  therewith." 

60.  If  you  hear  a  child  cry,  etc.  Steevens  remarks  :  "  It  is  not  impos- 
sible but  that  part  of  this  scene  was  intended  as  a  burlesque  on  The 
Statutes  of  the  Streets,  imprinted  by  Wolfe  in  1595.  Among  these  I  find 
the  following  : 

'22.  No  man  shall  blowe  any  home  in  the  night,  within  this  citie,  or 
whistle  after  the  hour  of  nyne  of  the  clock  in  the  night,  under  paine  of 
imprisonment. 

'23.  No  man  shall  use  to  goe  with  visoures,  or  disguised  by  night,  un- 
der paine  of  imprisonment, 

'24.  Made  that  night-walkers  and  evisdroppers,  have  like  punish- 
ment. 

'25.  No  hammer-man,  as  a  smith,  a  pewterer,  a  founder,  and  all  ar- 
tificers making  great  sound,  shall  not  worke  after  the  houre  of  nyne 
at  night,'  etc. 

'30.  No  man  shall,  after  the  houre  of  nyne  at  night,  keep  any  rule,* 
whereby  any  such  suddaine  outcry  be  made  in  the  still  of  the  night,  as 
making  any  affray,  or  beating  his  wyfe,  or  servant,  or  singing,  or  revyl- 
ing  in  his  house,  to  the  disturbaunce  of  his  neighbours,  under  payne  of 
iiis.  iiiid.,'  etc." 

Ben  Jonson  is  thought  to  have  ridiculed  this  scene  in  the  induction  to 
his  Bartholomew  Fair:  "And  then  a  substantial  watch  to  have  stole  in 
up'on  'em,  and  taken  them  away  with  mistaking  words,  as  the  fashion  is 
in  the  stage  practice."  Yet,  as  M.  Mason  observes,  Ben  himself,  in  his 
Tale  of  a  Tub,  makes  his  wise  men  of  Finsbury  speak  in  the  same  blun- 
dering style.  Gifford  believes  it  very  improbable  that  Jonson  refers  to 
S.,  as  these  "mistaking  words"  were  common  in  the  plays  of  the  time, 
and  are  elsewhere  put  into  the  mouths  of  constables. 

69.  Present.  Represent ;  but  not  one  of  Dogberry's  blunders.  Cf. 
Temp.  iv.  i.  167  :  "when  I  presented  Ceres ;"  and  see  M.  N.  D.  p.  156. 

73.  Statues.  The  folio  reading  ;  the  quarto  has  "  statutes."  It  is 
impossible  to  decide  whether  the  blunder  is  Dogberry's  or  the  folio 
printer's. 

78.  Keep  your  fellows'*  counsels  and  your  cnvn.  This  is  part  of  the  oath 
of  a  grand  juryman,  and  is  one  of  many  proofs  of  the  poet's  familiarity 
with  legal  formalities  and  technicalities. 

85.  Coil.  Bustle,  confusion.  Cf.  v.  2.  83  below:  "yonder  's  old  coil 
at  home  ;"  and  see  M.  N.  D.  p.  168. 

92.  Scab.  There  is  a  play  on  the  word,  which  sometimes  meant  a 
contemptible  fellow.  Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  5.  82  :  "  Out,  scab  !"  For  the  quib- 
ble, cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  I.  31,  Cor.  i.  I.  169,  and  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  296. 

95.  Pent-house.  A  porch  or  shed  with  sloping  roof,  common  in  the 
domestic  architecture  of  the  time.  There  was  one  on  the  house  in 
which  S.  was  born,  as  is  shown  in  the  accompanying  view  copied  from 
an  old  print. 

*  Keep  any  rw/<?=pursue  any  line  of  conduct.  Cf.  night-rule  in  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  5, 
and  see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  160. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  ///. 


147 


JOHN  SHAKESPEARE'S  HOUSE. 

96.  Like  a  true  drunkard.  Malone  suggests  that  S.  may  have  called 
him  Borachio  from  the  Spanish  borracho,  a  drunkard,  or  borracha,  a 
leathern  bottle  for  wine. 

103.  Villany.  Warb.  wished  to  read  "villain"  here;  but  it  is  natural 
that  Borachio  should  repeat  the  word,  and  the  use  of  the  abstract  for 
the  concrete  is  a  familiar  rhetorical  figure. 

106.  Unconfirmed.  Inexperienced;  as  in  Z.  Z.  Z.  iv.  2.  19:  "his  un- 
dressed, unpolished,  uneducated,  unpruned,  untrained,  or,  rather,  unlet- 
tered, or,  ratherest,  unconfirmed  fashion." 

115.  This  seven  year.  A  common  phrase  for  a  long  time.  See  on  i. 
i.  75  above,  and  cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  343,  etc. 

120.  Bloods.  Young  fellows.  Cf.  j.  C.  iv.  3.  262:  "I  know  young 
bloods  look  for  a  time  of  rest."  Elsewhere  it  means  men  of  spirit  or 
mettle  ;  as  in  J.  C.  i.  2.  151  :  "the  breed  of  noble  bloods."  See  also  A". 
John,  ii.  i.  278,  461. 

122.  Reechy.     Reeky,  smoky,  dirty.     See  Ham.  p.  240. 

123.  In  the  old  church  window.     That  is,  in  the  painted  glass.     There 
were  threescore  and  ten  of  the  god  BeVs  priests,  as  we  learn  from  the 
Apocrypha. 

124.  Smirched.     Smutched,  soiled.     Cf.  iv.  i.  131  below:  "smirched 
thus  and  mir'd  with  infamy."     See  also  A.  Y.  L.  i.  3.  114  and  Hen.  F. 
iii.  3.  17. 

The  shaven  Hercules  is  probably  the  hero  shaved  to  look  like  a 
woman  while  in  the  service  of  Omphale,  his  Lydian  mistress  (Stee- 
vens).  Warb.  thought  that  the  reference  was  to  Samson  whom  some 
Christian  mythologists  identified  with  Hercules.  Sidney,  in  his  De- 
fence of  Poesie,  tells  of  having  seen  "  Hercules  painted  with  his  great 


148  NOTES. 

beard  and  furious  face  in  a  womans  attire,  spinning  at  Omphales  com- 
inandement." 

132.  Ale.     See  on  i.  3.  53  above. 

135.  Possessed.  Influenced  (Schmidt).  Cf.  i.  i.  169  above  :  "  pos- 
sessed with  a  fury."  In  141  just  below  it  has  much  the  same  sense. 

153.  A  lock.  It  was  a  fashion  with  the  gallants  of  the  time  to  wear  a 
pendent  lock  of  hair  over  the  forehead  or  behind  the  ear,  sometimes  tied 
with  ribbons,  and  called  a  love-lock.  Fynes  Moryson,  in  a  description 
of  the  dress  of  Lord  Mountjoy,  says  that  his  hair  was  "  thinne  on  the 
head,  where  he  wore  it  short,  except  a  lock  under  his  left  eare,  which  he 
nourished  the  time  of  this  warre  [the  Irish  War,  in  1599],  and  being 
woven  up,  hid  it  in  his  neck  under  his  ruffe."  When  not  on  service  he 
probably  wore  it  displayed.  The  portrait  of  Edward  Sackville,  Earl  of 
Dorset,  painted  by  Vandyck,  shows  this  lock  with  a  large  knot  of  rib- 
bon at  the  end  of  it  hanging  under  the  ear  on  the  left  side.  See  on 
i.  I.  65  above,  and  cf.  The  Return  from  Parnassus,  1606  : 
"  He  whose  thin  fire  dwells  in  a  smoky  roofe, 
Must  take  tobacco,  and  must  wear  a  lock." 

157.  Masters.  In  the  quarto  and  the  folio  this  speech  and  the  next 
are  both  given  to  Conrade.  In  the  folio,  it  reads  thus  :  "  Conr.  Masters, 
neuer  speake,  we  charge  you,  let  vs  obey  you  to  goe  with  vs."  The 
correction,  which  is  generally  adopted,  was  made  by  Theo. 

1 60.  We  are  like  to  prove,  etc.  "  Here  is  a  cluster  of  conceits.  Com- 
modity was  formerly,  as  now,  the  usual  term  for  an  article  of  merchan- 
dise. To  take  up,  besides  its  common  meaning  (to  apprehend],  was  the 
phrase  for  obtaining  goods  on  credit.  '  If  a  man  is  thorough  writh  them 
in  honest  taking  up,'  says  Falstaff  [2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  45],  'then  they  must 
stand  upon  security.'  Bill  was  the  term  both  for  a  single  bond  and  a  hal- 
berd" (Malone).  For  the  quibble,  cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  135  :  "My  lord, 
when  shall  we  go  to  Cheapside,  and  take  up  commodities  upon  our  bills?" 

162.  In  question.  That  is,  subject  to  judicial  examination  (Steevens). 
Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  68  :  "  He  that  \vas  in  question  for  the  robbery  ?" 

SCENE   IV.  — 6.  Rabato.      Collar,  ruff.      Cf.  Dekker,  Guls  Hornbook, 
1609 :  "  Your  stiff-necked  rebatoes  (that  have  more  arches  for  pride  to 
row  under,  than  can  stand  under  five  London-bridges)  durst  not  then," 
etc.     Cotgrave,  in  his  Fr.  Diet.,  as  quoted  by  Nares,  has  "Rabat — a  re- 
batoe  for  a  woman's  ruffe."     Cf.  Marston,  Scourge  of  Villanie: 
"  Alas  her  soule  struts  round  about  her  neck ; 
Her  seate  of  sense  is  her  rebato  set." 

8.  By  my  troth,  Js  not  so  good.  This  is  the  reading  of  botja  quarto  and 
folio,  as  in  17  just  below.  It  is  a  contraction  for  "By  my  troth,  it  's," 
etc.  So  this  is  is  shortened  into  this\  as  in  Lear,  iv.  6.  187:  "This'  a 
good  block"  ("This  a"  in  the  folio).  See  Gr.  461. 

12.  Tire.  Head-dress.  Cf.  Sonn.  53.  8:  "And  you  in  Grecian  tires 
are  painted  new  ;"  T.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  190  :  "  If  I  had  such  a  tire,"  etc. 

16.  Exceeds.  For  the  intransitive  use,  cf.  Per.  ii.  3.  16  :  "To  make 
some  good,  but  others  to  exceed."  The  participle  is  often  so  used ;  as 
in  T.G.ofV.  ii.  i.  100 :  "  O  exceeding  puppet !" 


ACT  III.    SCENE  IV.  149 

17.  Night-gown.     Dressing-gown,  or  "undress"  gown.     See  Macb.  p. 
194. 

///  respect  of='m  comparison  with  ;  as  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  639  :  "  Hector 
was  but  a  Troyan  in  respect  of  this,"  etc. 

18.  Cuts.     Schmidt  defines  cut  as  "a  slope  in  a  garment,"  whatever 
that  may  be,  and  compares  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  90  :  "  Here  's  snip  and  nip  and 
cut  and  slish  and  slash  ;"  but  it  is  doubtful  whether  it  there  has  this 
technical  meaning.     Petruchio  seems  to  be  merely  referring  in  a  profane 


thy  master  cut  out  the  govu. , 

Perhaps  this  dialect  of  the  mantua-maker  is  beyond  the  ken  of  the  male 
critic. 

19.  Down  sleeves.     "  Hanging  sleeves"  (Schmidt).     As  side-sleeves  un- 
doubtedly means  long   or  hanging  sleeves,  Steevens  reads  "set  with 
pearls  down  sleeves."     In  Laneham's  Account  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  En- 
tertainment at  Kenelworth- Castle,  1575,  the  minstrel's  "gown  had  side- 
sleeves  down  to  the  mid-leg."     Stowe,  in  his  Chronicle,  describes  these 
sleeves  as  worn  in  the  time  of  Henry  IV.,  some  of  which,  he  says,  "hung 
downe  to  the  feete,  and  at  least  to  the  knees,  full  of  cuts  and  jagges, 
whereupon  were  made  these  verses  : 

'  Now  hath  this  land  little  neede  of  broomes, 
To  sweepe  away  the  filth  out  of  the  streete, 
Sen  side-sleeves  of  pennilesse  groomes 
Will  it  up  licke  be  it  drie  or  weete.'  " 

Side  or  syde  is  said  to  be  used,  in  the  North  of  England  and  in  Scot- 
land, in  the  sense  of  long  when  applied  to  garments.  A  side-gown  — "A. 
long  one ;  as  in  the  Paston  Letters :  "a  short  blue  gown  that  was  made 
of  a  side-gown."  Cf.  Fitzherbert's  Book  of  Husbandry :  "Theyr  cotes 
be  so  syde  that  they  be  fayne  to  tucke  them  up  whan  they  ride,  as  wom- 
en do  theyr  kyrtels  whan  they  go  to  the  market." 

W.  remarks  here :  "  The  dress  was  made  after  a  fashion  which  is  il- 
lustrated in  many  old  portraits.  Beside  a  sleeve  which  fitted  more  or 
less  closely  to  the  arm  and  extended  to  the  wrist,  there  was  another,  for 
ornament,  which  hung  from  the  shoulder,  wide  and  open."  If  this  ex- 
planation is  correct,  down  sleeves  would  mean  the  inner  close  sleeves, 
side-sleeves  the  outer  loose  ones. 

Underborne.  According  to  Schmidt  and  Halliwell,  this  is  =  trimmed, 
or  faced. 

20.  Quaint.     Fanciful,  or  elegant.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  102:   "a  gown 
more  quaint,  more  pleasing,"  etc. 

29.  Saving  your  reverence.  "Margaret  means  that  Hero  was  so  prud- 
ish as  to  think  that  the  mere  mention  of  the  word  husband  required  an 
apology  "  (Camb.  ed.). 

33.  Light.  S.  is  fond  of  playing  on  the  different  senses  of  light;  as 
here  on  that  of  light  in  weight  and  that  of  wanton  (as  in  "a  light  wom- 
an ").  Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  52,  M.  N.  £>.  iii.  2.  133,  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  91,  Rich. 
II.  iii.  4.  86,  T,  and  C.  \.  3.  28,  Cymb.  v.  4.  25,  etc. 


I5o  NOTES. 

39.  Light  o"1  love.  A  popular  old  dance  tune,  referred  to  again  in  T. 
G.  of  V.  i.  2.  83  :  "Best  sing  it  to  the  tune  of  'Light  o'  love.'"  Cf. 
Fletcher,  Two  Noble  Kinsmen :  "  He  gallops  to  the  tune  of  *  Light  o' 
love.' " 

41.  Yea,  light  o1  love.     The  early  eds.  have  "  Ye  light  o'  love,"  which 
Halliwell  and  the  Camb.  ed.  retain.     The  former  says  that  light  o1  love 
was  a  common  term  for  a  woman  of  light  character. 

42.  See.     The  folio  has  "  look."     In  barns  there  is  a  quibbling  refer- 
ence to  bairns  =  children.     Cf.  W.  T.  iii.  3.  70  :  "  Mercy  on  's,  a  barne  ! 
a  very  pretty  barne  !"    A.  W.  i.  3.  28  :  "they  say  barnes  are  blessings." 

44.  /  scorn  that  with  my  heels.  A  common  expression,  which  is  play- 
ed upon  by  Lancelot  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  2.  9  :  "  scorn  running  with  thy  heels." 

47.  Ready.     Dressed.     See  Macb.  p.  202,  note  on  Put  on  manly  readi- 
ness. 

48.  For  a  hawk,  etc.     Heigh  ho  for  a  Husband  was  the  title  of  an  old 
ballad.     See  on  ii.  i.  287  above. 

49.  For  the  letter,  etc.     Referring  to  ache  which  was  pronounced  aitch^ 
as  explained  in  Temp.  p.  119.     Cf.  Hey  wood,  Epigrammes,  1566  : 

"//  is  worst  among  letters  in  the  crosse-row  ; 
For  if  thou  find  him  either  in  thine  elbow, 
In  thine  arm.  or  leg,  in  any  degree  ; 
In  thine  head,  or  teeth,  or  toe,  or  knee  ; 
Into  what  place  soever  //may  pike  him, 
Wherever  thou  find  ache  thou  shalt  not  like  him  ;" 

and  Wifs  Recreation,  1640  : 

"  Nor  hawk,  nor  hound,  nor  horse,  those  hhh, 
But  ach  itself,  't  is  Brutus1  bones  attaches. ' 

It  was  only  the  noun,  however,  that  had  this  pronunciation ;  the  verb 
was  pronounced  and  often  spelt  ake.  In  V.and  A.  875  and  C.  of  E.  iii. 
I.  58,  the  verb  rhymes  with  brake  and  sake.  The  noun  is  of  course  dis- 
syllabic in  the  plural,  as  is  evident  from  the  measure  in  Temp.  i.  2.  370, 
T.  of  A.  i.  i.  257,  v.  i.  202. 

50.  Turned  Turk.     A  proverbial  expression— completely  changed  for 
the  worse.     Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  287  :  "  if  the  rest  of  my  fortunes  turn  Turk 
with  me;"    Cook,  Greenes  Tti  Quoque :  "This  it  is  to  turn  Turk,  from 
an  absolute  and  most  compleat  gentleman,  to  a  most  absurd,  ridiculous, 
and  fond  lover." 

52.    Trow.     That  is,  I  trow  —  \  wonder  (Schmidt),  or  trow  jy<?  =  think 

ye  (Halliwell).    Cf.  M.  W.  \.  4.  140  :  "  Who  's  there,  I  trow  ^  Cymb.  i.  6. 

47  :   "  What  is  the  matter,  trow  t"     In  affirmative  sentences,  I  trow  is 

often  =  "  I  dare  say,  certainly"  (Schmidt).     Cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  I.  218,  i  Hen. 

•  VI.  ii.  I.  41,  v.  I.  56,  R.  and  J.  i.  3.  33,  etc. 

55.  Gloves.  Presents  of  gloves  were  much  in  fashion  in  the  time  of 
S. 

6 1.  Professed  apprehension.     Set  up  for  a  wit;  as  the  answer  shows. 

66.  Carduus  Benedictus.  The  blessed  thistle,  or  holy  thistle,  an  annu- 
al plant  from  the  south  of  Europe,  which  got  its  name  from  its  reputa- 
tion as  a  cure-all.  It  was  even  supposed  to  cure  the  plague,  which  was 
the  highest  praise  that  could  be  given  to  a  medicine  in  that  day.  Stee- 


ACT  III.    SCENE   V.  15! 

vens  quotes  Cogan,  Haven  of  Health,  1595  :  "This  herbe  may  worthily 
be  called  Benedictus,  or  Omnimorbia,  that  is,  a  salve  for  every  sore,  not 
knowen  to  physitians  of  old  time,  but  lately  revealed  by  the  speciall 
providence  of  Almighty  God."  The  Vertuose  Boke  of  Dystillacyou  of  the 
Waters  of  all  maner  of  Herbes,  1527,  says  that  "  Water  of  Cardo  Bene- 
dictus .  .  .  heleth  al  dysseases  that  brenneth."  Hayne,  in  his  Life  of 
Luther,  1641,  states  that  about  1527  Luther  "fell  sick  of  a  congealing 
blood  about  his  heart,"  but  "  drinking  the  water  of  carduus  benedictus, 
he  was  presently  helped."  The  plant  retains  little  of  its  ancient  repu- 
tation in  our  day ;  though,  according  to  Sweringen's  Pharmaceutical 
Lexicon  (Phila.  1873),  ^  ^s  naturalized  in  this  country  and  "considered 
tonic,  diaphoretic,  and  emetic." 

71.  Moral.  "  That  is,  some  secret  meaning,  like  the  moral  of  a  fable  " 
(Johnson).  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  4.  79  :  "  to  expound  the  meaning  or  moral  of 
his  signs  and  tokens." 

80.  Eats  his  meat  without  grudging.  "  And  yet  now,  in  spite  of  his 
resolution  to  the  contrary,  he  feeds  on  love,  and  likes  his  food"  (Malone). 

82.  Look  with  your  eyes,  etc.  "  That  is,  direct  your  eyes  toward  the 
same  object,  namely,  a  husband  "  (Steevens). 

84.  A  false  gallop.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  119  :  "the  very  false  gallop  of 
verses."  It  is  apparently  =  "  forced  gait"  (i  Hen.  IV.  iii.  i.  135).  See 
A.  Y.L.  p.  171. 

SCENE  V. — 9.  Off  the  matter.  Astray,  away  from  the  subject.  Cf. 
Cymb.  i.  4.  17  :  "a  great  deal  from  the  matter."  Off\s  Capell's  emen- 
dation for  the  "  of"  of  the  early  eds. 

II.  Honest  as  the  skin  between  his  brows.  A  proverbial  expression. 
Cf.  Gammer  Gtirtorfs  Needle,  1575:  "I  am  as  true,  I  would  thou  knew, 
as  skin  betwene  thy  brows ;"  Cartwright,  Ordinary,  v.  2  :  "I  am  as 
honest  as  the  skin  that  is  between  thy  brows,"  etc.  t 

15.  Palabras.  That  is,  pocas  palabras,  Spanish- few  words.  Cf.  T.of 
S.  ind.  i.  5  :  "Therefore  paucas  pallabris  ;  let  the  world  slide:  sessa!" 
Henley  cites  The  Spanish  Tragedy:  "Pocas  pallabras,  milde  as  the 
lambe."  Palabras  has  become  naturalized  in  palaver. 

17.  Tedious.  The  tediousness  of  constables  was  proverbial.  Cf.  B.  J., 
Cynthia's  Revels:  "Ten  constables  are  not  so  tedious." 

19.  The  poor  duke's  officers.  For  the  blundering  transposition,  cf.  M. 
for  M.  ii.  i.  47  :  "I  am  the  poor  duke's  constable "  (cf.  185). 

23.  A  thousand  pound.  See  on  i.  i.  75  above.  The  folio  has  "times" 
for  pound. 

33.  When   the  age,  etc.     An   obvious   blunder  for  the   old   proverb, 
"When  the  wine  is  in,  the  wit  is  out."     Heywood,  in  his  Epigrammes, 
gives  it  "  When  ale  is  in,  wit  is  out." 

34.  A  world  to  see.     "  A  treat  to  see  "  (Schmidt)  ;  "  wonderful  to  see  " 


and  in  the  Myrrour  of  Good  Manners  compyled  in  Latin,  etc.,  "  Est  ope- 
rae  pretium  cloctos  spectare  colonos"  is  rendered  "A  world  it  is  to  se 


152 


NOTES. 


wyse  tyllers  of  the  grounde."  Many  other  examples  of  the  expression 
might  be  given. 

35.  God  V  a  good  man.  Another  proverbial  expression.  Steevens 
quotes  the  old  morality  of  Lusty  Juventus : 

"  He  wyl  say,  that  God  is  a  good  Man, 
He  can  make  him  no  better,  and  say  the  best  he  can  ;" 

A  Mery  Geste  of  Robin  Hoode :  "For  God  is  hold  a  righteous  man;" 
Burton,  Anat.  of  Melancholy :  "God  is  a  good  man,  and  will  doe  no 
harme,"  etc. 

47.  Suffigance.     That  is,  sufficient. 

54.  Examine  those.  The  folio  reading  ;  the  quarto  has  "  examination 
these."  W.  remarks  :  "  The  blunder  in  the  quarto  is  entirely  out  of 
place  in  Dogberry's  mouth  ;  it  is  not  of  the  sort  which  S.  has  made 
characteristic  of  his  mind.  Dogberry  mistakes  the  significance  of 
words,  but  never  errs  in  the  forms  of  speech  ;  he  is  not  able  to  discrim- 
inate between  sounds  that  are  like  without  being  the  same,  but  he  is 
never  at  fault  in  grammar ;  and  this  putting  of  a  substantive  into  his 
mouth  for  a  verb  is  entirely  at  variance  with  his  habit  of  thought,  and 
confounds  his  cacology  with  that  which  is  of  quite  another  sort."  It 
may  be  added  in  support  of  the  folio  reading  that  Dogberry  has  just 
used  the  verb  correctly.  See  44  above. 

57.  Non-come.  "  To  a  non  compos  mentis,  put  them  out  of  their  wits  ; 
or,  perhaps,  he  confounds  the  term  with  non  plus"  (Malone). 


ACT  IV. 

SCENE  I. — 6.  No.  t\Ve  must  agree  with  Gervinus  (see  p.  17  above)  that 
the  behaviour  of  Claudio  here  is  "  heartless."  We  do  not  know  that  Mr. 
Charles  Cowden  Clarke  is  too  hard  upon  him  when  he  says  (Shake- 
speare-Characters, p.  306):  "Claudio  is  a  fellow  of  no  nobleness  of 
character,  for  instead  of  being  the  last,  he  is  the  first  to  believe  his  mis- 
tress guilty  of  infidelity  towards  him,  and  he  then  adopts  the  basest  and 
the  most  brutal  mode  of  punishment  by  casting  her  off  at  the  very  altar. 
Genuine  love  is  incapable  of  revenge  of  any  sort — I  hold  that  to  be  a 
truism — still  less  of  a  concocted  and  refined  revenge.  Claudio  is  a 
scoundrel  ingrain."  Miss  Constance  O'Brien  ("  Shakespeare's  Young 
Men,"  in  the  Westminster  Review,  Oct.  1876)  classes  Claudio  with  Tybalt 
and  Laertes.  She  says  :  "  The  young  men  of  the  fifth  type  .  .  .  have  all 
certain  good  points,  but  they  are  unbalanced  men,  and  easily  hurried 
into  excesses  through  over-confidence  in  their  own  judgment.  Tybalt, 
Claudio,  and  Laertes  belong  to  this  class,  and  they  have  all  the  same 
peculiarity.  They  are  so  fully  persuaded  of  the  justice  and  right  of 
their  own  ideas  that  they  take  any  means  to  gain  their  object,  quite  dis- 
regarding the  cruelty,  treachery,  or  meanness  which  they  perpetrate.  .  .  . 
Claudio  is  an  accomplished  and  gallant  gentleman,  much  liked  by  his 
friends,  and  really  attached  to  Hero ;  but  he  is  so  bent  on  avenging  his 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  I.  153 

own  fancied  wrong,  so  sure  that  he  has  the  right  to  do  so,  that  he  quite 
ignores  the  cruel  injustice  of  condemning  his  bride  unheard.  There  is 
no  real  sense  of  justice  about  any  of  this  class;  their  feeling  of  honour 
is  touched,  and  they  are  wild  for  revenge,  but  they  do  not  care  how  un- 
justly they  get  it.  There  is  a  little  touch  of  affectation  about  Claudio, 
not  so  strong  as  in  Tybalt ;  but  Don  John  talks  of  *  the  exquisite  Clau- 
dio,' and  Benedick  jeers  at  his  fantastical  language  and  the  love  of  finery 
which  he  develops  after  falling  in  love."  Of  Benedick,  on  the  other 
hand,  she  says :  "  Benedick  tries  hard  to  appear  to  have  neither  heart 
nor  feeling,  but  they  come  out  in  spite  of  him.  His  mocking  laugh  dies 
into  silence  when  people  are  in  real  trouble  ;  he  cannot  resist  trying  to 
take  Hero's  part,  and  believes  in  her  innocence  more  readily  than  her 
own  father  ...  It  is  curious  with  what  cool  contempt  he  treats  Claudio 
when  Beatrice  makes  him  quarrel  with  him,  as  if  there  had  been  a  lurk- 
ing feeling  in  his  mind  that  a  weak  nature  was  concealed  under  his 
friend's  taking  exterior." 

12.  If  either  of  you  know^  etc.  Douce  remarks:  "This  is  borrowed 
from  our  Marriage  Ceremony,  which  (with  a  few  slight  changes  in  phrase- 
ology) is  the  same  as  was  used  in  the  time  of  Shakespeare." 

21.  Some  be  of  laughing,  etc.  A  quotation  from  the  old  grammars. 
Cf.  Lyly,  Endymioii,  1591,  where  one  of  the  characters  exclaims  "  Hey- 
ho  !"  "What's  that?"  another  asks;  and  the  reply  is  :  "An  interjec- 
tion, whereof  some  are  of  mourning  :  as  eho,  vah." 

23.  Stand  thee.     The  thee  is  probably  =  thou.     See  on  iii.  I.  I  above. 

29.  Render.     Give.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  i.  2.  21  :  "What  he  hath  taken  away 
from  thy  father  perforce,  I  will  render  thee  again  in  affection,"  etc. 

30.  Learn.     Teach.     Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  365  :  "  For  learning  me  your  lan- 
guage," etc.     See  also  A.  Y.  L.  p.  141. 

37.  Comes  not,  etc.  Is  not  that  modest  blush  the  evidence  of  artless 
innocence  ? 

41.  Luxurious.  Lustful  ;  as  in  Macb.  iv.  3.  58,  etc.  It  is  the  only 
sense  in  which  S.  uses  either  the  adjective  or  the  noun.  See  Hen.  V.  p. 
1 66,  note  on  Luxury. 

44.  Knit.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  i.  i.  172  :  "  By  that  which  knitteth  souls  and 
prospers  loves  ;"  Cymb.  ii.  3.  122  :  "to  knit  their  souls,"  etc. 

Approved.     See  on  ii.  I.  340  above. 

45.  In  your  own  proof .     In  your  own  trial  of  her  (Tyrwhitt). 

47.  Defeat.  Ruin,  destruction.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  \.  2.  107:  "Making  de- 
feat on  the  full  power  of  France  ;"  Ham.  ii.  2.  598  : 

"  Upon  whose  property  and  most  dear  life 
A  damn'd  defeat  was  made." 

49.  Large.     Free,  licentious.     Cf.  ii.  3.  181  above  :  "large  jests." 
53.   Out  on  thy  seeming!     The  old  eds.  have  "Out  on  thee  seeming,  I 
will,"  etc.     K.  and  V.  have  "  Out  on  the  seeming  !"     W.  gives  "  Out  on 
thee  !     Seeming !"     The  reading  in  the  text  was  suggested  by  Pope, 
and  is  adopted  by  D.,  H.,  Halliwell,  and  others. 
/  will  write  against  if,  etc.     Cf.  Cymb.  ii.  5.  32  : 

"I  '11  write  against  them, 
Detest  them,  curse  them." 


154  NOTES. 

55.  As  is  the  bud.  "  Before  the  air  has  tasted  its  sweetness  "  (John- 
son). 

58.  Rage.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "range,"  and  in  the  next  line  "wild" 
for  wide.  On  the  latter  word,  cf.  T.  and  C.  iii.  I.  97,  Lear,  iv.  7.  50,  etc. 

61.  Gone  about.     Endeavoured.     Cf.  i.  3.  n  above. 

62.  Stale.     See  on  ii.  2.  23  above. 

63.  Are  these  things,  etc.     Cf.  Macb.  i.  3.  83  :  "  Were  such  things  here 
as  we  do  speak  about  ?" 

65.  Nuptial.  S.  uses  only  the  singular  in  this  sense,  except  in  Per. 
v.  3.  80..  See  Temp.  p.  143,  and  cf.  J.  C.  p.  183,  note  on  His  funerals. 

True  !  O  God  !  This  probably  refers  to  what  Don  John  has  just  said. 
Some  eds.  print  "  True,  O  God  !"  as  if  it  were  a  reply  to  Benedick ;  and 
perhaps  it  is. 

70.  Move  one  qtiestion.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  3.  89  :  "  We  dare  not  move 
the  question  of  our  place." 

71.  Kindly.     Natural.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  84:  "kindly  tears,"  etc. 
In  A.  and  C.  ii.  5.  78,  "kindly  creatures "=such  as  the  land  naturally 
produces.     Cf.  "  kindly  fruits  of  the  earth  "  in  the  Prayer-Book. 

89.  Liberal.     Licentious.     See  Ham.  p.  258. 

90.  Encounters.     Meetings ;  as  in  iii.  3.  136  above.     See  also  Temp. 
iii.  i.  74,  v.  i.  154,  etc. 

93.  Spoke.     We  have  had  spoken  in  63  above.     Gr.  343. 

96.  Misgovernment.     Want  of  self-control,  misconduct.     S.  uses  the 
word  only  here,  but  he  has  misgoverning  in  the  same  sense  in  R.  of  L. 

654. 

On  thy  much,  cf.  M.for  M.  v.  I.  534  :  "  thy  much  goodness,"  etc.  See 
also  Matt.  vi.  7. 

97.  What  a  Hero,  etc.     Johnson  says  :  "  I  am  afraid  here  is  intended 
a  poor  conceit  upon  the  word  Hero ;"  but,  as  Halliwell  remarks,  this  is 
very  improbable. 

103.  Conjecture.  Suspicion.  Cf.  W.  T.  ii.  i.  176:  "as  gross  as  ever 
touch'd  conjecture  ;"  Ham.  iv.  5.  15  : 

"she  may  strew 
Dangerous  conjectures  in  ill-breeding  minds." 

105.  Gracious.  Lovely,  attractive  ;  as  in  T.  N.  i.  5.  281,  K.  John,  iii.  4. 
8 1,  96,  etc.  The  word  is  here  a  trisyllable.  Gr.  479. 

109.  Smother  her  spirits  up.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  5.  20  :  "  To  smother  up 
the  English,"  etc. 

114.  May.  Can.  See  on  ii.  3.  19  above,  and  cf.  iii.  2.  103  :  "  May  this 
be  so?" 

120.  The  story,  etc.  "That  is,  the  story  which  her  blushes  discover 
to  be  true "  (Johnson).  Schmidt  takes  blood  to  be  used  in  the  same 
sense  as  in  ii.  i.  162  above.  Seymour  objects  to  the  former  explanation 
that  Hero  had  fainted ;  but  we  find  the  Friar  afterwards  referring  to  the 
"  thousand  blushing  apparitions"  he  had  noted  in  her  face,  and  this  may 
be  a  similar  reference. 

123.  Spirits.     Monosyllabic,  as  often.     Gr.  463. 

124.  On  the  rearward.     Cf.  Sonn.  90.  6  :  "  In  the  rearward  of  a  con- 
quer'd  woe."     See  also  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  339. 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  I.  155 

126.  Chid.     Similarly  followed  by  at  in  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  I.  78,  A.  Y.  L. 
iii.  5.  129,  W.  T.  iv.  4.  6,  etc.     Elsewhere  it  is  followed  by  with;  as  in 
Sonn.  in.  i,  Oth.  iv  2.  167,  and  Cymb.  v.  4.  32. 

Frame.  "  Order,  disposition  of  things  "  (Steevens).  Schmidt,  less 
happily,  makes  frame  —  mould  (as  in  W.  T.  ii.  3.  103),  and  explains  the 
passage,  "  Did  I  grumble  against  the  niggardness  of  nature's  casting- 
mould?" 

127.  One  too  much  by  thee.    Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  v.  4.  52 :  "  too  much  by  one." 
131.  Who  smirched.     Who  being  smirched,  if  she  were  smirched.     See 

Gr.  377.     For  smirched  (cf.  iii.  3.  124  above)  the  folio  has  "  smeered." 

Mir'd.  Soiled.  Used  again  as  a  verb  (=sink  in  mud)  in  T.  of  A.  iv. 
3.  147  :  "  Paint  till  a  horse  may  mire  upon  your  face."  Halliwell  cites 
Palsgrave,  Lesclarcissement  de  la  Langue  Francoyse,  1530  '  "I  myar,  I 
beraye  with  myar ;  the  poore  man  is  myred  up  to  the  knees ;"  and  Tay- 
lor, Workes,  1630  : 

"  I  was  well  entred  (forty  winters  since) 
As  farre  as  possum  in  my  A  ccidence  ; 
And  reading  but  from  possum  to  posset, 
There  was  I  mii*d,  and  could  no  further  get." 

134.  And  mine  I  lotfd,  etc.  Warb.  strangely  wanted  to  read  "as  mine 
I  lov'd,  as  mine  I  prais'd,  As  mine,"  etc.  For  the  ellipsis  of  the  relative, 
see  Gr.  244 ;  and  for  on=of,  Gr.  181. 

137.  Valuing  of  her.     "Estimating  what  she  was  to  me"  (Schmidt). 

138.  That.     So  that.     Gr.  283.     On  the  passage,  cf.  Macb.  ii.  6.  60  : 

"  Will  all  great  Neptune's  ocean  wash  this  blood 
Clean  from  my  hand?" 

140.  Season.  For  the  metaphor,  cf.  A.  W.  i.  i.  55:  "'T  is  the  best 
brine  a  maiden  can  season  her  praise  in  ;"  T.  N.  i.  i.  30  : 

"all  this  to  season 

A  brother's  dead  love,  which  she  would  keep  fresh 
And  lasting  in  her  sad  remembrance  ;" 

J\.  and  J.  ii.  3.  72  : 

"How  much  salt  water  thrown  away  in  waste, 

To  season  love,  that  of  it  doth  not  taste ! " 
See  also  Z.  C.  18. 

142.  Attir'd  in  wonder.     Cf.  R.  of  L.  1601 :  "  Why  art  thou  thus  attir'd 
in  discontent  ?"   T.  N.  iv.  3.  3  :  "  't  is  wonder  that  enwraps  me  thus." 
150.   Two.     Omitted  in  the  folio. 

152.  Wash\i.     That  is,  he  washed.     For  the  ellipsis,  see  Gr.  399. 

153.  Hear  me,  etc.     In  the  early  eds.  this  and  the  three  following  lines 
are  printed  as  prose,  and  "been  silent"  (first  transposed  by  W.)  is  given 
for  our  silent  been.    Other  emendations  have  been  suggested,  but  seem  to 
be  unnecessary. 

154.  And  given  way,  etc.     And  let  these  things  take  their  course. 

155.  By  noting.     From  noting;  because  I  have  been  noting  or  ob- 
serving.    Gr.  146. 

157.  Apparitions.     Metrically  equivalent  to  five  syllables.     Gr.  479. 

158.  Shames.     For  the  plural,  cf.  A.  and  C.  i.  4.  72  : 


I56  NOTES. 

"Let  his  shames  quickly 
Drive  him  to  Rome." 

159.  Bear.  The  folio  reading,  and  preferable  to  the  "beate"  of  the 
quarto ;  though  Coll.  and  V.  adopt  the  latter. 

161.   To  burn  the  errors.     Steevens  compares  R.  and  J.  i.  2.  93  : 

"  When  the  devout  religion  of  mine  eye 

Maintains  such  falsehood,  then  turn  tears  to  fires  ; 
And  these,  who  often  drown'd  could  never  die, 
Transparent  heretics,  be  burnt  for  liars!" 

164.  Doth  warrant,  etc.     That  is,  confirm  what  I  have  read. 

1 66.  Reverence,  calling.  The  Coll.  MS.  gives  "  reverend  calling,"  which 
is  plausible,  but  no  change  is  really  required. 

1 68.  Biting.  Often  used  metaphorically  by  S.  Cf.  M.  W.  v.  5.  178: 
"  a  biting  affliction  ;"  M.  for  M.  i.  3.  19  :  "  most  biting  laws,"  etc.  The 
Coll.  MS.  substitutes  "blighting." 

171.  Not  denies.  Cf.  Temp.  ii.  I.  121  :  "I  not  doubt;"  Id.  v.  i.  38: 
"  WThereof  the  ewe  not  bites,"  etc.  See  also  v.  i.  22  below:  "they 
themselves  not  feel."  Gr.  305. 

174.  What  man,  etc.  Warb.  sees  great  subtlety  in  this  question.  No 
man's  name  had  been  mentioned ;  but  had  Hero  been  guilty  it  was  very 
probi.ble  that  she  would  not  have  observed  this,  and  might  therefore 
have  betrayed  herself  by  giving  the  name.  We  suspect,  however,  that 
there  is  more  of  Warburton  than  of  Shakespeare  in  this  explanation. 

183.  Misprision.     Misapprehension,  mistake.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  90  : 

"Of  thy  misprision  must  perforce  ensue 
Some  true  love  turn'd,  and  not  a  false  turn'd  true." 

184.  The  very  bent  of  honour.     The  utmost  degree  of  honour  (John- 
son).    Cf.  ii.  3.  204  above:  "her  affections  have  their  full  bent;"  and 
see  note.     Schmidt  makes  bent  here  inclination,  disposition  (as  in  R. 
and  y  ii.  2.  143,  J.  C.  ii.  I.  210,  etc.),  but  the  other  meaning  is  more  ap- 
propriate and  more  forcible. 

185.  Wisdoms.     A  common  use  of  the  plural  in  S.     See  Rich.  II.  p. 
206,  note  on  Sights  ;  or  Macb.  p.  209,  note  on  Loves. 

186.  Practice.     Plotting,  trickery  ;  as  in  M.  for  M.  v.  I.  107,  123,  239, 
etc.     See  also  Ham.  p.  255  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  156.     Walker  puts  this  among 
the  passages  in  which  live  and  lie  were  probably  confounded  by  the  old 
printers. 

187.  Frame.     Framing,  devising.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "fraud  and." 
192.  Eat.    For  the  form, see  Rich.  II.  p.  104  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  165.     Gr.  343. 
Invention.     Mental  activity  (Schmidt)  ;  as  in  Oth.  iv.  i.  201  :  "of  so 

high  and  plenteous  wit  and  invention,"  etc.  The  word  is  here  a  quadri- 
syllable. See  on  apparitions,  157  above. 

195.  In  such  a  kind.  Cf.  ii.  i.  58  above  :  "in  that  kind."  For  kind 
Walker  suggested  "  cause,"  which  the  Coll.  MS.  also  gives.  The  rhyme 
makes  kind  suspicious. 

198.  To  quit  me  of  them.  To  requite  myself  in  respect  of  them,  to  be 
even  with  them.  Cf.  Cor.  iv.  5.  89  :  "  To  be  full  quit  of  those  my  banish- 
ers  ;"  T.  of  S.  iii.  I.  92  :  "  Hortensio  will  be  quit  with  thee,"  etc.  See 
also  Rich.  II.  p.  208  or  Ham.  p..  269. 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  I. 


157 


Throughly.  Thoroughly.  Cf.  Temp.  iii.  3.  14,  Ham.  iv.  5.  136,  etc. 
See  M.  of  V.  p.  144,  note  orr  Through/ares. 

200.  Princes.  The  early  eds.  have  "  the  Princesse  (left  for  dead)." 
The  correction  is  due  to  Theo. 

203.  Ostentation.     Similarly  used  of  funeral  pomp  in  Ham.  iv.  5.  215. 
Elsewhere   it  is  =  outward  show,  without  the  idea  of  pretentiousness. 
Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  54  :  "  all  ostentation  of  sorrow;"  A.  and  C.  iii.  6.  52  : 

"  The  ostentation  of  our  love,  which,  left  unshown, 

Is  often  left  unlov'd,"  etc. 

In  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  409  (**  full  of  maggot  ostentation  ")  it  has  its  modern 
meaning. 

204.  For  the  old  custom  which  is  here  alluded  to,  see  on  v.  i.  269 
below. 

207.  What  shall  become,  etc.     That  is,  what  shall  come,  etc.     Cf.  T.  N. 
ii.  2.  37  :  "  What  will  become  of  this  ?"  (that  is,  what  will  be  the  result 
of  this  ?),  etc. 

208.  Well  carried.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  240  :  "  This  sport,  well  carried, 
shall  be  chronicled."     See  on  carry ,  ii.  3.  196  above. 

209.  Remorse.     Pity.     See  M.  of  V.  p.  156  or  Macb.  p.  171. 

217.  Whiles.     Used  interchangeably  with  while  as  a  conjunction,  but 
never  as  a  noun.     Gr.  137.     The  Coll.  MS.  transposes  lacked  and  lost; 
but  7tf<r>£Vdoes  not  mean  missed,  but  missing,  wanting.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  I. 
37,  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  223,  etc.    Even  if  it  were  a  case  of  what  the  rhetoricians 
call  "  hysteron-proteron  "  (a  figure  recognized  by  Puttenham  in  his  Arte 
of  English  Poesie,  1589),  other  examples  are  to  be  found  in  S. 

218.  Rack.     Stretch,  strain,  exaggerate.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  i.  181  : 

"Try  what  my  credit  can  in  Venice  do  ; 
That  shall  be  rack'd,  even  to  the  uttermost,"  etc. 

221.  Upon.     In  consequence  of  (Schmidt).     Cf.  v.  i.  235  below:  "  And 
fled  he  is  upon  this  villany."     Gr.  191. 

222.  Idea.     Image.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  7.  13  : 

"Withal  I  did  infer  your  lineaments, 

Being  the  right  idea  of  your  father ;" 

L.  L.  L.  iv.  2.  69 :  "  forms,  figures,  shapes,  objects,  ideas,"  etc.     S.  uses 
the  word  only  three  times. 

223.  Study.     Schmidt  takes  this  to  be  a  figurative  use  of  study '=& 
room  for  study,  and  compares  Sonn.  24.  7  :   "  my  bosom's  shop ;"  but 
study  of  imagination  may  be  simply  =  imaginative  study,  imaginative  re- 
flections. 

226.  Moving,  delicate.  So  in  the  early  eds. ;  but  some  modern  ones 
give  "  moving-delicate."  Cf.  Gr.  2. 

227.  Eye  and  prospect.  Cf.  K.  John.  ii.  I.  208:  "Before  the  eye  and 
prospect  of  your  town." 

229.  Liver.  Anciently  supposed  to  be  the  seat  of  love.  Cf.  R.  of  L. 
47,  Temp.  iv.  i.  56,  M.  W.  ii.  i.  121,  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  443,  T.  N.  ii.  4.  101,  ii.  5. 
1 06,  etc. 

231.  No,  though  he  thought,  etc.  "A  line  instinct  with  touching  knowl- 
edge of  human  charity.  Pity  attends  the  faults  of  the  dead  ;  and  sur- 
vivors visit  sin  with  regret  rather  than  reproach  "  (Clarke). 


158  NOTES. 

232.  Success.  That  which  is  to  succeed  or  follow,  the  issue.  Cf.  A.  and 
C.  iii.  5.  6  :  "  What  is  the  success  ?"  2  Hen:  VI.  ii.  2.  46  :  "  things  ill-got 
had  ever  bad  success;"  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  117  :  "bad  success  in  a  bad 
cause,"  etc. 

235.  LeveWd.  Technically = aimed ;  as  in  L.  C.  282,  Rich.  III.  iv.  4. 
202,  etc 

238.  Sort.  Fall  out,  result.  Cf.  v.  4.  7  below :  "  all  things  sort  so 
well."  See  also  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  352,  Ham.  i.  I.  109,  etc. 

240.  Reclusive.     Used  by  S.  nowhere  else. 

242.  Advise.     That  is,  prevail  upon  by  advice,  persuade.     Cf.  Lear,  v, 
I.  2  :  "he  is  advis'd  by  aught,"  etc.     See  also  M.  N.  D.  p.  126,  note  on 
Be  advised. 

243.  Inwardness.    Confidence,  intimacy.     The  noun  is  used  by  S.  only 
here,  but  we  have  inward= confidential  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  i.  102  :  "what  is 
inward  between  us,"  etc.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  4.  8  :  "  inward  with  the  royal 
duke."     So  the  noun  inward— confidential  friend  in  M.for  M.  iii.  2.  138: 
"  I  was  an  inward  of  his." 

247.  Being  that.     Since.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  I.  199  :  "being  you  are  to 
take  soldiers,"  etc.     Gr.  378. 

248.  The  smallest  twine,  etc.     Johnson  remarks  :  "  This  is  one  of  our 
author's  observations  upon  life.     Men  overpowered  with  distress  eager- 
ly listen  to  the  first  offers  of  relief,  close  with  every  scheme,  and  believe 
every  promise.     He  that  has  no  longer  any  confidence  in  himself  is  glad 
to  "repose  his  trust  in  any  other  that  will  undertake  to  guide  him." 

249.  Presently.     See  on  i.  I.  74  above. 

250.  To  strange  sores,  etc.     Cf.  Ham.  iv.  iii.  9  : 

"diseases  desperate  grown 
By  desperate  appliance  are  relieved, 
Or  not  at  all." 

261.  Even.     Plain.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  3.  2  :  «  Give  even  way  unto  my 
rough  affairs." 

262.  May.     Can.    See  on  ii.  3.  19  above. 

270.  By  my  sword.     On  swearing  by  the  sword,  see  Ham.  p.  197. 

271.  By  tt.     These  words  are  in  the  folio,  but  not  in  the  quarto. 
274.  Eat  your  word.     Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  v.  4.  155  and  the  play  upon  the 

phrase  m  2  Hen.  IV.  n.  2.  149. 

287.  To  deny  it.  By  refusing  it.  For  the  "indefinite  use"  of  the  in- 
finitive, see  Gr.  356. 

289.  I  am  gone,  though  I  am  here.  As  Beatrice  is  about  to  go,  Bene- 
dick seizes  and  detains  her;  she  tries  in  vain  to  escape,  and  says  "My 
heart  is  absent,  though  I  am  present  in  body."  As  Halliwell  remarks, 
this  is  very  effective  on  the  stage. 

297.  Approved.     Proved.     See  on  ii.  i.  340  above. 

/;/  the  height.  In  the  highest  degree.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  v.  i.  200  :  "Even 
in  the  strength  and  height  of  injury."  So  to  the  height  and  at  the  height; 
as  m  Hen.  VIII.  i.  2.  214 :  "  to  the  height  a  traitor ;"  A.  Y.  L.  v.  2.  50  : 

at  the  height  of  heart-heaviness,"  etc. 

299.  Bear  her  in  hand.  Keep  her  in  expectation,  flatter  her  with  false 
hopes.  Cf.  T.  ofS.  iv.  2.  3,  Macb.  iii.  i.  80,  Ham.  ii.  2.  67,  Cymb.  v.  5. 43,  etc. 


ACT  iy.    SCENE  II.  159 

302.  I  would  eat,  etc.     Steevens  quotes  Chapman,  Iliad,  xxii.  : 
"  Hunger  for  slaughter,  and  a  hate  that  eates  thy  heart  to  eate 

Thy  foe's  heart." 

So  Hecuba  (Iliad,  xxiv.),  speaking  of  Achilles,  expresses  a  wish  to  use 
her  teeth  on  his  liver. 

304.  Proper.  Often  used  in  this  ironical  way.  See  Macb.  p.  218,  note 
on  O proper  stuff.  Cf.  i.  3.  46  above  :  "  A  proper  squire  !" 

310.  Counties.     See  on  ii.  i.  170  above. 

311.  Count,  Count  Comfect.     The  quarto  reads  "  counte,  counte  com- 
fect;" the  folio,  "Counte,  comfect."     Count  Comfect  is  used  in  derision, 
like  "My  Lord  Lollipop"  (St.).     W.  sees  a  play  upon  both  count  and 
confect.     "  Her  wit  and  her  anger  working  together,  she  at  once  calls 
Claudio's  accusation  'a  goodly  conte  confect,'  that  is,  a  story  made  up, 
and  him  a  count  confect,'  that  is,  a  nobleman  of  sugar  candy ;  for  he 
was  plainly  a  pretty  fellow  and  a  dandy;  and  then  she  clenches  the 
nail  that  she  has  driven  home  by  adding  *  a  sweet  gallant,  surely  !'    This 
sense  of  the  passage  ...  is  further  evident  from  the  inter-dependence  of 
the  whole  exclamation,  *  Surely  a  princely  testimony,  a  goodly  count,' — 
the  first  part  of  which  would  be  strangely  out  of  place  if  there  were  no 
pun  in  the  second.     In  Shakespeare's  time  the  French  title  Count  was 
pronounced  like  conte  or  compte,  meaning  a  fictitious  story,  a  word  which 
was  then  in  common  use." 

314.  Courtesies.     Mere  forms  of  courtesy.     Here  both  quarto  and  folio 
have  "  cursies,"  which  Halliwell  believes  to  be  an  old  form  used  only  in 
the  sense  of  obeisance,  or  the  outward  manifestation  of  courtesy.     Sec 
on  ii.  i.  45  above.     The  curtsy  was  formerly  used  by  men  as  well  as 
women.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  49  :  "  Duck  with  French  nods  and  apish 
courtesy ;"  L.  L.  L.  i.  2.  66  :  "a  new-devised  courtesy  ;"  A.  W.  v.  3.  324: 
"  Let  thy  courtesies  alone  ;  they  are  scurvy  ones,"  etc. 

315.  Trim.     The  word,  like  proper  (see  on  304  above)  is  often  used 
ironically.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  363  :  "  Trim  gallants  ;"  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  157  : 
"  A  trim  exploit,"  etc.     Ones= tongues  ;  such  change  from  singular  to 
plural  being  not  uncommon  in  Elizal3ethan  English.     Cf.  Sonn.  78.  3  : 

"  As  every  alien  pen  hath  got  my  use, 

And  under  thee  their  poesie  disperse  ;" 

where  the  plural  in  their  and  in  the  subject  of  disperse  is  implied  in  every 
pen. 

325.  Engaged.     Pledged ;  that  is,  to  challenge  him. 

SCENE  II. — Enter  .  .  .  in  gowns.  The  gowns  of  constables  are  often 
alluded  to  in  writers  of  the  time.  Malone  quotes  The  Blacke  Booke, 
1604:  "when  they  mist  their  constable,  and  sawe  the  blacke  gowne  of 
his  office  lye  full  in  a  puddle." 

i.  This  speech  is  assigned  to  " Keeper"  in  the  early  eds.  (see  on  ii.  3.  32 
above),  and  "  Kempe  "  is  prefixed  to  most  of  the  speeches  of  Dogberry 
in  the  remainder  of  the  scene,  as  "  Cowley  "  or  "  Couley  "  is  to  those  of 
Verges.  In  line  4,  however,  we  find  "Andrew"  a  name  that  cannot  be 
identified  with  that  of  any  comic  actor  of  the  time  ;  but  perhaps,  as  Hal- 
liwell  suggests,  it  was  the  familiar  appellation  of  some  one  of  them. 


160  NOTES. 

5.  Exhibition  to  examine.  A  blunder  for  "examination  to  exhibit" 
(Steevens). 

16-19.  Yea  sir  .  .  .  such  villains.  Found  in  the  quarto,  but  omitted  in 
the  folio.  As  Theo.,  who  restored  the  passage  to  the  text,  remarks,  "  it 
supplies  a  defect,  for  without  it  the  town-clerk  asks  a  question  of  the 
prisoners,  and  goes  on  without  staying  for  any  answer  to  it."  Blackstone 
believes  that  the  omission  was  made  on  account  of  the  statute  of  James 
I.  forbidding  the  use  of  the  name  of  God  on  the  stage. 

18.  Defend.     Forbid.     See  on  ii.  i.  81  above. 

23.  /  will  go  about  with  him.  "I  will  go  to  work  with  him,  he  shall 
find  his  match  in  me  "  (Schmidt).  See  on  i.  3.  n  above. 

28.  They  are  both  in  a  tale.  "  They  both  say  the  same  "  (Schmidt). 
"Dogberry  had  heard  of  getting  at  the  truth  by  separate  examination, 
and  sagaciously  asking  a  question  to  which  they  could  not  but  both  give 
the  same  answer,  expresses  his  surprise  at  the  failure  of  his  wise  experi- 
ment. The  humour  of  the  observation  is  admirable"  (Pye). 

32.  Eftest.  Quickest,  readiest  (Boswell).  Theo.  changed  it  to  "  deft- 
est," and  Steevens  thought  that  it  was  meant  to  be  a  blunder  for  that 
word.  Deftly  occurs  in  Macb.  iv.  i.  68. 

46.  By  the  mass.  Halliwell  remarks  that  this  oath  was  then  go- 
ing out  of  fashion,  and  is  therefore  appropriately  put  into  the  mouth 
of  Verges  —  "a  good  old  man,  sir."  Cf.  Sir  John  Harrington,  Epi- 
grams ^  1633  : 

"  In  elder  times  an  ancient  custome  was, 
To  sweare  in  weighty  matters  by  the  Masse  ; 
But  when  the  Masse  went  downe  (as  old  men  note) 
They  swore  then  by  the  crosse  of  this  same  grote  ; 
And  when  the  Crosse  was  likewise  held  in  scorne, 
Then,  by  their  faith,  the  common  oath  was  sworne. 
Last,  having  sworne  away  all  faith  and  troth, 
Onely  God-damne  them  is  their  common  oath. 
Thus  custome  kept  decorum  by  gradation, 
That  losing  Masse,  Crosse,  Faith,  they  find  damnation." 

58.  Upon.  In  consequence  of.  See  on  iv.  i.  221  above. 
62.  Let  them,  etc.  The  quarto  reads :  "  Couley.  Let  them  be  in  the 
hands  of  coxcombe."  The  folio  has  "Sex.  Let  them  be  in  the  hands 
of  Coxcombe."  Theo.  retained  the  old  text,  but  gave  the  speech  to  Con- 
rade,  as  W.  does.  The  reading  in  our  text  is  Malone's,  who  also  sug- 
gested 

"  Verges.  Let  them  be  in  the  hands  of— 
Conrade.  Coxcomb!" 

There  is  not  much  to  choose  between  these  two  emendations.  The 
Camb.  editors  suggest  that  Let  them  be  in  the  hands  "  may  be  the  cor- 
ruption of  a  stage-direction  [Let  them  bind  them~\  or  [Let  them  bind  their 
hands]."  The  Coll.  MS.  gives 

"  Verges.  Let  them  be  bound. 
Conrade.  Hands  off,  coxcomb!" 

66.  Naughty.  Formerly  used  in  a  much  stronger  sense  than  at  present. 
See  M.ofV.ip.  152. 

69.  My  years.     Mr.  Weiss  (see  p.  26  above),  in  quoting  this  passage, 


ACT  V.    SCENE  7.  !6i 

gives  "my  ears,"  but  as  we  can  find  no  authority  for  that  reading,  we 
take  it  to  be  a  misprint ;  Dogberry  could  hardly  have  confounded  words 
so  familiar  as  years  and  ears. 

75.  Piece  of  flesh.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  68:  "a  good  piece  of  flesh  in- 
deed !"  T.  N.  i.  5.  30:  "  as  witty  a  piece  of  Eve's  flesh  as  any  in  lllyria ;"' 
L.  L.  L.  iii.  I.  136  :  "  My  sweet  ounce  of  man's  flesh  !" 

77.  Losses.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "leases,"  and  some  one  has  suggested 
"  law-suits."  The  meaning  seems  to  be,  one  that  is  "  a  rich  fellow  "  still, 
though  he  "  hath  had  losses." 


ACT  V. 

SCENE  I.  —  7.   Comforter.     The  quarto  reading.     The   1st  folio  has 
"comfort,"  changed  in  the  2d  into  "comfort  els." 
7.  Suit.     Agree,  coincide.     Cf.  71  N.  i.  2.  50  : 

"I  will  believe  them  hast  a  mind  that  suits 
With  this  thy  fair  and  outward  character.'  ' 

10.  Hanmer  reads  "speak  to  me;"  but  patience  is  a  trisyllable,  as  in  19 
below.  Gr.  479. 

12.  Strain.  Feeling  (Schmidt).  Ci.Sonn.qo.  13:  "strains  of  woe  ;" 
T.and  C.  ii.  2.  154: 

"  Can  it  be 

That  so  degenerate  a  strain  as  this 
Should  once  set  footing  in  your  generous  bosoms  ?" 

See  also  Cor.  v.  3.  149,  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  213,  etc. 

1  6.  Bid  sorrow)  wag,  etc.  This  is  the  great  crux  of  the  play.  The  quarto 
and  folio  read  :  "  And,  sorrow,  wagge,  crie  hem,"  etc.  CapelPs  emenda- 
tion in  the  text  is  perhaps  as  satisfactory  as  any  that  has  been  proposed, 
and  is  adopted  by  St.,  D.,  H.,  the  Camb.  editors,  and  others.  Among  the 
others  are  "  And  sorrow  wage  ;  cry  hem  "  (Theo.)  ;  "  And  sorrow  waive  ; 
cry  hem  "  (Hanmer)  ;  "  And  '  sorrow,  waggery  ;  hem,  when  "  (Johnson)  ; 
"  Cry,  '  sorrow,  wag  ;'  and  hem  "  (also  suggested  by  Johnson,  and  adopt- 
ed by  Steevens)  ;  "  In  sorrow  wag  ;  cry  hem  "  (Malone)  ;  "  And  —  sor- 
row wag!  —  cry  hem"  (D.)  ;  "Call  sorrow  joy,  cry  hem"  (Coll.  MS.)  ; 
"  And  sorrowing,  cry  hem  "  (Heath,  followed  by  Halliwell)  ;  "  And  sor- 
row's wag,  cry  hem"  (W.),  etc.  Schmidt  thinks  that  the  old  reading  may 
be  explained  thus  :  "  and  if  sorrow,  a  merry  droll,  will  cry  hem,"  etc. 


For  wtfo-^begone,  cf.  M.  W.  i.  3.  7:   "let  them  wag;  trot,  trot."     See 
also  Id.  ii.  I.  238,  ii.  3.  74,  101  ;  and  cf.  T.  A.  v.  2.  87  : 

"  For  well  I  wot  the  empress  never  wags 
But  in  her  company  there  is  a  Moor." 

See  also  Ham.  pp.  235,  265. 

iS.  Candle-wasters.  Those  who  sit  up  late,  "  burning  the  midnight  oil  ;" 
but  whether  in  revelry,  as  Steevens  explains  it,  or  in  study,  as  Whalley 
suggests,  has  been  matter  of  dispute.  St.  and  D.  adopt  the  former  in- 
terpretation ;  but  Schmidt  favours  the  latter,  making  the  passage  — 

L 


1 62  NOTES. 

"drown  grief  with  the  wise  saws  of  pedants  and  book-worms."  Ingleby 
also  explains  it,  "drown  one's  troubles  in  study."  Whalley  quotes  B.  J., 
Cynthia's  Revels,  iii.  2  :  "  Spoiled  by  a  whoreson  book-worm,  a  candle- 
waster."  Lamp-wasters  is  similarly  used  in  The  Antiquary ,  iii. 

23.  Passion.     Emotion,  sorrow.     Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  392  :   "  Allaying  both 
their  fury  and  my  passion ;"  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  118  :  "  passion's  solemn  tears," 
T.  A.  i.  i.  106 :  "  A  mother's  tears  in  passion  for  her  son,"  etc. 

24.  Preceptial  medicine.     The  medicine  of  precept  or  counsel.     Cf.  i.  3. 
II  above  :  "a  moral  medicine." 

28.  Wring.     Writhe ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  iv.  I.  253  : 

"  Whose  sense  no  more  can  feel 
But  his  own  wringing ;" 

and  Cymb.  iii.  6.  79  :  "  He  wrings  at  some  distress." 

30.  Moral.  Ready  to  moralize.  Cf.  Lear.  iv.  2.  58 :  "a  moral  fool." 
Schmidt  makes  it  an  adjective  with  this  sense  in  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  29  : 

"  When  I  did  hear 

The  motley  fool  thus  moral  on  the  time  ;" 
but  it  is  more  likely  a  verb = moralize. 

32.  Advertisement.  Admonition,  moral  instruction  (Johnson).  Cf.  A. 
W.  iv.  3.  240  :  "  that  is  an  advertisement  to  a  proper  maid  in  Florence,  one 
Diana,  to  take  heed ;"  i  Hen.  IV.  iv.  i.  36 :  "  Yet  doth  he  give  us  bold 
advertisement."  See  also  Baret,  Alvearie,  1580:  "A  warning  and  ad- 
monition, an  advertisement,  a  counsaile,  an  advisement  or  instruction, 
admonitw."  So  the  verb  — counsel,  instruct ;  as  in  M.forM.  \.  1.42,  v.  i. 
388,  and  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  4.  178.  Seymour  explains  the  present  passage  : 
"my  griefs  are  too  violent  to  be  expressed  in  words." 

37.  The  style  of  gods.     Warb.  thought  this  referred  to  "  the  extravagant 
titles  the  stoics  gave  their  wise  men  ;"  but,  as  Steevens  remarks,  it  means 
simply  "  an  exalted  language,  such  as  we  may  suppose  would  be  written  by 
beings  superior  to  human  calamities."    Cf.  B.  and  F.,  Four  Plays  in  One : 

"  Athens  doth  make  women  philosophers, 
And  sure  their  children  chat  the  talk  of  gods." 

38.  Push.     Rowe  changed  this  to  "  pish,"  and  Schmidt  makes  it  an  in- 
terjection =  "  pshaw,  pish  ;"  as  in  T.  of  A.  iii.  6.  1 19  :  "  Push  !  did  you  see 
my  cap  ?"     Boswell  considers  made  a  push  at—  contended  against,  defied  ; 
and  cites  from  L'Estrange,  "  Away  he  goes,  makes  his  push,  stands  the 
shock  of  battle,"  etc.    £,i.push— onset,  attack,  in  J.  C.  v.  2.  5  :  "  And  sud- 
den push  gives  them  the  overthrow,"  etc. 

Stifferance- ^  suffering ;  as  in  Sonn.  58.  7,  M.  W.  iv.  2.  2,  2  Hen.  IV.  v.  4. 
28,  T.and  C.\.  I.  28,  etc. 

46.  Good  den.     See  on  iii.  2.  72  above. 

55.  Beshrew.     A  mild  form  of  imprecation.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  152. 

58.  Fleer.  Grin,  sneer.  Palsgrave  defines  it  thus  :  "  I  flee  re,  I  make 
an  yvell  countenaunce  with  the  mouthe  by  uncoveryng  of  the  tethe."  Cf. 
R.  and  J.  i.  5.  59  :  "  To  fleer  and  scorn  at  our  solemnity."  See  also  L.  L. 
L.  v.  2.  109  and  J.  C.  i.  3.  117. 

62.  To  thy  head.  Forby,  in  his  East  Anglian  Vocabulary,  says  :  "  We 
say,  I  told  him  so  to  his  heady  not  to  his  face,  which  is  the  usual  phrase." 

64.  Reverence.     That  is,  the  "privilege  of  age  "  mentioned  just  above, 


ACT  V.    SCENE  /.  163 

65.  Bruise  of  many  days.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  I.  IOC:  "the  bruises  of 
the  days  before." 

66.  Trial  of  a  man.     Manly  combat.     For  trial  in  this  sense,  cf.  Rick. 
II.  i.  i.  81,  151,  i.  3.  99,  iv.  I.  56,  71,  90,  106,  etc. 

71.  Framed.  Devised,  fabricated.  C£  the  use  of  the  noun  in  iv.  1. 187 
above. 

75.  Fence.     Skill  in  fencing  ;  as  in  84  just  below.     In  3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  i. 
44  ("fence  impregnable")  it  means  defence.     Cf.  the  use  of  the  verb- 
defend,  in  Id.  iii.  3.  98  :  "  fence  the  right." 

76.  May  of  youth.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  120 :  "the  very  May-morn  of  his 
youth." 

Lustihood.  Spirit,  vigour.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  50  :  "lustihood  deject." 
See  also  Spenser,  F.  Q.  iii.  10.  45  :  "All  day  they  daunced  with  great 
lusty-hedd ;"  Shep.  Kal.  May :  "  In  lustihede  and  wanton  meryment ;" 
Muiopotmos,  61  :  "  Yong  Clarion,  with  vauntfull  lustie-head,"  etc. 

77.  Away!  I  will  not  have  to  do  with  yoit.     Here  again  Claudio's  be- 
haviour is  unfeeling.     "  The  prince,  who  is  only  an  acquaintance  of  the 
father  Leonato,  and  his  brother  Antonio,  nevertheless  manifests  a  gentle- 
manly consideration  and  even  tenderness  in  their  family  disaster ;  but 
Claudio  is  wholly  untouched  by  the  anguish  of  the  old  men  at  the  loss  of 
their  child  (she  his  own  mistress  too  !)  and  at  the  stain  upon  their  house. 
He  has  no  word  of  sympathy  or  commiseration  ;  he  wraps  himself  up  in 
contempt  of  their  aged  and  feeble  defiance ;  and  immediately  after  they 
have  gone  out,  upon  Benedick's  entering,  he  jests  upon  the  danger  that 
he  and  the  prince  have  escaped  of  having  their  '  noses  snapped  off  with 
two  old  men  without  teeth '  "  (Clarke). 

78.  Daff.     Put  off,  put  aside.     See  on  ii.  3.  155  above. 

80.  He  shall  kill,  etc.  "  This  brother  Antony  is  the  truest  picture  im- 
aginable of  human  nature.  He  had  assumed  the  character  of  a  sage  to 
comfort  his  brother,  overwhelmed  with  grief  for  his  only  daughter's  affront 
and  dishonour ;  and  had  severely  reproved  him  for  not  commanding  his 
passion  better  on  so  trying  an  occasion.  Yet,  immediately  after  this,  no 
sooner  does  he  begin  to  suspect  that  his  age  and  valour  are  slighted,  but 
he  falls  into  the  most  intemperate  fit  of  rage  himself.  .  .  .  This  is  copying 
nature  with  a  penetration  and  exactness  of  judgment  peculiar  to  Shake- 
speare" (Warb.). 

82.  Win  me  and  wear  me.     " Proverbial = let  him  laugh  that  wins; 
originally  =  win  me  and  have  or  enjoy  me"  (Schmidt).     Cf.  Hen.  V.  v. 

2.  250 :  "  thou  hast  me,  if  thou  hast  me,  at  the  worst ;  and  thou  shalt 
wear  me,  if  thou  wear  me,  better  and  better,"  etc.     See  also  ii.  i.  294 
above. 

83.  Come,  sir  boy,  come,  follow.     The  reading  of  the  early  eds.     Pope 
changed  it  to  "come,  boy,  follow." 

84.  Foining.     "  A  term  in  fencing = thrusting  "  (Douce).     Cf.  M.  W.  ii. 

3.  24  :  "  To  see  thee  fight,  to  see  thee  foin."     See  also  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  i.  17 
and  ii.  4.  252.    We  have/0/;/  as  a  noun  (  —  thrust)  in  Lear,  iv.  6.  251.     So 
in  Cotgrave's  Fr.  Diet. :  "  Coup  d^estoc,  a  thrust,  foine,  stockado,  stab." 
Halliwell  quotes  Harrington,  Ariosto,  1591  :  "  Rogero  never  foyned,  and 
seldome  strake  but  flatling." 


164  NOTES. 

87.  Content  yourself.  "Compose  yourself,  keep  your  temper" 
(Schmidt) ;  as  in  71  of  S.  i.  I.  90,  203,  ii.  i.  343,  T.  and  C.  iii.  2.  151,  etc. 

91.  Jacks.  Often  used  as  a  term  of  contempt.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  4.  77  : 
"  these  bragging  Jacks ;"  I  Hen.  IV.  iii.  3.  99  :  "  the  prince  is  a  Jack,  a 
sneak-cup,"  etc.  See  also  i.  I.  162  above. 

94.  Scambling.     Scrambling.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  i.  i.  4,  v.  2.  218,  etc. 
Outfacing.     "  Facing  the  matter  out  with  looks  "  (Schmidt).     Cf.  A.  Y. 

L.  i.  3.  124 : 

"  As  many  other  mannish  cowards  have 
That  do  outface  it  with  their  semblances." 

Fashion-monging.  Foppish.  It  is  the  reading  of  both  quarto  and  fo- 
lio, changed  in  the  later  folios  to  "fashion-mongring."  We  have  fashion- 
monger  in  R.  of  J.  ii.  4.  34.  Halliwell  cites  Wilson,  Coblers  Frophecie, 
1594:  "the  money-monging  mate  with  all  his  knaverie." 

95.  Cog.     "  To  deceive,  especially  by  smooth  lies  "  (Schmidt).     Cf.  M. 
W.  iii.  3.  76  :  "I  cannot  cog,  and  say  thou  art  this  and  that,  like  a  many 
of  these  lisping  hawthorn-buds,  that  come  like  women  in  men's  apparel," 
etc.     See  also  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  48,  T.  and  C.  v.  6.  1 1,  T.  of  A.  v.  i.  98,  etc. 

Flout.     See  on  i.  i.  162  above. 

Deprave.  Slander.  Cf.  T.  of  A.  \.  2.  145  :  "  Who  lives  that  's  not 
depraved  or  depraves?"  So  depravation  —  detraction  in  T.  and  C.  v. 

2.  132. 

96.  Anticly.     Spelt  "antiquely"  in  the  early  eds.,  which  use  antique 
and  antick  interchangeably  without  regard  to  the  meaning.     Cf.  Macb. 
p.  234. 

Show.  The  early  eds.  and  many  modern  ones  have  "  and  show." 
Spedding  suggested  the  emendation. 

Otitward  hideousness  =  "\\\\-&.\.  in  Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  81  is  called  'a  horrid 
suit  of  the  camp '  "  (Steevens). 

97.  Off.     The  early  eds.  have  "of;"  corrected  by  Theo.     Dangerous 
=  threatening. 

101.  Wake.  Rouse,  excite.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  i.  3.  132:  "To  wake  our 
peace."  See  also  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  288.  Hanmer  reads  "rack"  here,  and 
Warb.  "  wrack."  "  Waste  "  has  also  been  suggested. 

104.  Full  of  proof .     Fully  proved.     Cf.  "  full  of  rest "  in  I  Hen.  IV.  iv. 

3.  27  and  J.  C.  iv.  3.  202,  etc. 

1 13.  Almost  a  fray.      Rowe  omitted  almost,  but,  as  Halliwell   notes, 
the  repetition  is  quite  in  Shakespeare's  manner. 

114.  Had  like.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  197,  note  on  And  like.     For  with  —by, 
see  Gr.  193. 

117.  I  doubt.  I  suspect.  Cf.  M.  W.  i.  4.  42  :  "I  doubt  he  be  not  well," 
etc. 

119.  In  a  false  quarrel,  etc.  Cf.  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  233  :  "Thrice  is  he 
arm'd  that  hath  his  quarrel  just,"  etc. 

122.  High-proof.     In  a  high  degree  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

127.  As  -we  do  the  minstrels.  "  An  allusion  perhaps  to  the  itinerant 
sword-dancers"  (Douce).  Schmidt  makes  draw  —  ^\^\\  the  bow  of  a 
riddle;  Coll.  (so  D.  and  Halliwell)  =  draw  the  instruments  from  their 
cases. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  I.  ^5 

128.  Pleasure.  Cf.  M.  W.\.  I.  251  :  "what  I  do  is  to  pleasure  you;" 
M.  of  V.  i.  3.  7  :  "  will  you  pleasure  me  ?"  etc. 

131.  Care  killed  a  cat.  A  familiar  old  proverb.  Cf.  B.  J.,  Every  Man 
in  His  Humour,  i.  3  :  "  hang  sorrow,  care  '11  kill  a  cat,"  etc. 

133.  In  the  career,  etc.  The  metaphor  is  taken  from  the  tilting-field, 
and  is  carried  out  by  Claudio  in  his  reply. 

135.  Staff.  Lance.  See  Macb.  pp.  250,  253.  Broke  cress =\)roken 
crosswise,  and  not  by  a  direct  thrust.  The  former  was  considered  dis- 
graceful. See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  181,  note  on  Traverse. 

137.  By  this  light.  A  common  oath.  Cf.  Temp.  ii.  2.  154,  Hi.  2.  17,  Z. 
L.  L.  iv.  3.  10,  K.  John,  i.  i.  259,  etc.  See  also  v.  4.  92  below.  So  "by 
this  good  light "  (Temp.  ii.  2.  147,  W.  T.  ii.  3.  182),  "by  this  day  and  this 
light"  (Hen.  V.  iv.  8.  66),  "God's  light !"  (2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  142,  159),  etc. 

139.  To  turn  his  girdle.  "  Large  belts  were  worn  with  the  buckle 
before,  but  for  wrestling  the  buckle  was  turned  behind,  to  give  the  ad- 
versary a  fairer  grasp  at  the  girdle.  To  turn  the  buckle  behind,  there- 
fore, was  a  challenge"  (Holt  White).  Farmer  cites  a  letter  from  Win- 
wood's  Memorials,  in  which  Win  wood,  writing  from  Paris,  in  1602,  about 
an  affront  he  received  there  from  an  Englishman,  says  :  "I  said  what  I 
spake  was  not  to  make  him  angry.  He  replied,  if  I  were  angry,  I  might 
turn  the  buckle  of  my  girdle  behind  me."  Cf.  Cowley,  On  the  Govern- 
ment of  Oliver  Cromwell :  "  The  next  month  he  swears  by  the  living 
God,  that  he  will  turn  them  out  of  doors,  and  he  does  so  in  his  princely 
way  of  threatening,  bidding  them  turne  the  buckles  of  their  girdles  be- 
hind them."  Halliwell  explains  the  passage  :  "  you  may  change  your 
temper  or  humour,  alter  it  to  the  opposite  side ;"  W.  and  J.  H.  take  it 
that  the  girdle  is  turned  to  get  at  the  sword-hilt. 

143.  How.     In  whatever  way.     Cf.  iii.  I.  60  above.     With  w/tat=\vith 
whatever  weapon. 

144.  Do  me  right.     Give  me  satisfaction  ;  that  is,  accept  my  challenge. 
Cf.  i.  i.  215  above,  and  see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  165.     Protest— proclaim. 

150.  Capon.     Perhaps,  as  Schmidt  suggests,  with  a  play  on  the  word 
(=cap  on,  that  is,  a  fool's  cap,  or  coxcomb) ;  as  in  Cymb.  ii.  I.  25  :  "  You 
are  cock  and  capon  too  ;  and  you  crow,  cock,  with  your  comb  on."     Cf. 
C.  of  E.  iii.  i.  32. 

Curiously.  Carefully,  nicely.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  144:  "The  sleeves 
curiously  cut." 

151.  Naught.     Good  for  nothing.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  142. 

A  woodcock.  The  bird  was  supposed  to  have  no  brains,  and  was 
therefore  a  popular  metaphor  for  a  fool.  See  Ham.  pp.  191,  275. 

157.  Just.     See  on  ii.  i.  24  above. 

159.  A  wise  gentleman.  This  seems  to  have  been  used  ironically,  as 
wiseacre  is  now. 

He  hath  the  tongues.  That  is,  he  knows  foreign  languages.  Cf.  T.  G. 
of  V.  iv.  i.  33  : 

"  2  Outlaw.  Have  you  the  tongues  ? 
Valentine.  My  youthful  travel  therein  made  me  happy." 

163.   Trans-shape.     Caricature,  "spell  backward"  (iii.  i.  61  above). 

165.  Properest.     Handsomest.     Cf.  ii.  3.  166  above. 


!66  NOTES. 

169.  Deadly.  Implacably.  Adjectives  are  often  used  as  adverbs  (Gr. 
l),  especially  those  ending  in  -ly.  Cf.  A.  W.\.^.  117  :  "  thou  didst  hate 
her  deadly ;"  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  4.  84  :  "I  hate  thee  deadly ;"  Cor.  ii.  i.  67  : 
"  they  lie  deadly,"  etc. 

171.  God.  The  Coll.  MS.  substitutes  "who."  There  is  an  allusion 
to  Gen.  iii.  8. 

173.  The  savage  bull's  horns.     See  i.  I.  231  fol. 

190.  In  his  doublet  and  hose.  That  is,  without  his  cloak  ;  perhaps,  as 
Steevens  suggests,  because  going  to  fight  a  duel.  Cf.  M.  W.  iii.  i.  46, 
where  Page  says  to  Evans,  "  In  your  doublet  and  hose  this  raw  rheu- 
matic day!"  and  Evans  replies,  "There  is  reasons  and  causes  for  it," 
referring  to  the  duel  he  is  about  to  fight.  JBoswell  believes  that  "the 
words  are  probably  meant  to  express  what  Rosalind  in  A.  Y.  L.  [iii.  2. 
400]  terms  the  'careless  desolation'  of  a  lover."  Perhaps  we  need  not 
see  more  in  the  passage  than  a  hit  at  Benedick's  being  in  such  profound 
earnest,  having  laid  aside  his  wit  as  he  might  his  cloak. 

193.  A  doctor.     A  learned  man.     For  to—  in  comparison  to,  see  Ham. 
p.  183. 

194.  Soft  you.     "  Hold,  stop  "  (Schmidt).     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  176. 

Let  me  be.  The  reading  of  both  quarto  and  folio.  Halliwell  adopts 
Capell's  suggestion  of  "let  be,"  and  quotes  Palsgrave,  1530:  "I  let  be, 
I  let  alone  ;  let  be  this  nycenesse,  my  frende." 

Pluck  up,  etc.  "  Rouse  thyself,  my  heart,  and  be  prepared  for  serious 
consequences!"  (Steevens).  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  38  :  "Pluck  up  thy  spir- 
its."' 

197.  Reasons.  Some  see  here  a  pun  on  reasons  and  raisins,  as  in  I 
Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  264 :  "  if  reasons  were  as  plenty  as  blackberries."  There 
is  no  doubt  that  reasons  was  pronounced  like  raisins.  Cf.  the  pun  on 
meat  (pronounced  mate}  and  maid  in  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  68. 

201.  Hearken  after.  Inquire  concerning.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  I.  54  :  "  He 
hearkens  after  prophecies  and  dreams  "  (Schmidt). 

212.  Division.     Disposition,  arrangement ;  as  in  Oth.  i.  I.  23  :   "  the 
division  of  a  battle." 

213.  Well  suited.     "  That  is,  one  meaning  is  put  into  many  different 
dresses ;  the  Prince  having  asked  the  same  question  in  four  modes  of 
speech  "  (Johnson).     Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  2.  53  :  "  Description  cannot  suit  it- 
self in  words,"  etc. 

214.  Who.     Whom.     Cf.  i.  I.  187  above.     Gr.  274. 

215.  To  your  answer.     To  answer  for  your  conduct ;  that  is,  in  a  legal 
sense.     Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2.  18  : 

"  Arrest.ed  him  at  York,  and  brought  him  forward, 
As  a  man  sorely  tainted,  to  his  answer,"  etc. 

216.  Cunning.     Knowing,  wise.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  ii.  I.  56:    "Cunning  in 
music  and  the  mathematics,"  etc. 

219.  Wisdoms.  See  on  iv.  i.  185  above,  and  cf.  Ham.  i.  2.  15  :  "  Your 
better  wisdoms,"  etc. 

222.  Incensed.     Instigated.     Cf.  W.  T.  v.  i.  6 1  : 

"  She  had ;  and  would  incense  me 
To  murder  her  I  married.'' 


ACT  V.    SCENE  /.  167 

See  also  Rich.  II L  iii.  I.  152,  iii.  2.  29,  etc.  Nares  takes  the  word  in  the 
present  passage,  and  in  Rich.  III.  to  be  properly  insense  (=to  put  sense 
into,  instruct,  inform),  "  a  provincial  expression  still  quite  current  in 
Staffordshire,  and  probably  Warwickshire." 

227.  Upon.     See  on  iv.  I.  221  above,  and  cf.  235  just  below. 

231.  Whiles.     See  on  iv.  i.  217  above. 

233.  Practice.     Plotting.     See  on  iv.  I.  186  above. 

234.  Campos'1  d.     Wholly  made  up.     Cf.  Temp.  iii.  I.  9  : 

"O,  she  is 

Ten  times  more  gentle  than  her  father  's  crabbed, 
And  he  's  compos'd  of  harshness." 

237.  That  I  lov'd  it  first.  That  is,  in  which  I  loved  it  first.  The 
preposition  is  often  thus  omitted  in  relative  sentences.  See  Gr.  394. 

248.  Art  thou,  etc.  The  folio  has  "Art  thou  thou  the  slaue,"  and  some 
modern  eds.  follow  it  in  repeating  thou ;  but  this  injures  the  metre  and 
does  not  add  to  the  sense.  Even  W.  follows  the  quarto  here. 

255.  Bethink  you  of  it.     Think  of  it,  consider  it.     Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  4.  327  : 
"  he  hath  better  bethought  him  of  his  quarrel ;"  Rich.  III.  ii.  2.  96  : 
"  Madam,  bethink  you,  like  a  careful  mother, 
Of  the  young  prince  your  son,"  etc. 

258.  Impose  me  to.  Impose  on  me ;  which  is  elsewhere  the  form  of 
expression  in  S.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iii.  I.  130  :  "  impose  on  thee  nothing  but 
this,"  etc. 

266.  Possess.  Inform.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  3.  65  :  "  Is  he  yet  possess'd 
How  much  ye  would?" 

268.  Labour.     For  the  transitive  use,  cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  4.  253  :  "  That  he 
would  labour  my  delivery,"  etc. 

Invention.  Imagination.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  pro!.  2  :  "  the  brightest  heaven 
of  invention,"  etc. 

269.  Hang  her  an  epitaph,  etc.     It  was  the  custom  of  the  time  to  af- 
fix memorial  verses  to  the  herse  or  canopy  of  black  cloth  erected  tem- 
porarily over  the  tomb.     Ben  Jonson's  well-known  tribute  to  the  Coun- 
tess of  Pembroke,  "  Underneath  this  sable  hearse,"  etc.,  is  said  to  have 
been  written  for  such  a  purpose. 

275.  And  she  alone,  etc.  The  poet  seems  to  have  forgotten  that  he 
has  given  Leonato  a  son  in  i.  2.  i  above.  See  on  i.  i.  287  above. 

282.  Naughty.     See  on  iv.  2.  66  above. 

284.  Pack'd.  Implicated,  a  confederate.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  v.  I.  219  :  "The 
goldsmith  there,  were  he  not  pack'd  with  her,"  etc. 

288.  By  her.  About  her.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  60  :  "  How  say  you  by  the 
French  lord?"  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  150:  "I  would  not  have  him  know  so 
much  by  me,"  etc.  Gr.  145. 

293.  A  lock.  Cf.  iii.  3.  153  above.  Prynne,  in  1628,  wrote  a  treatise 
entitled  "  The  Unlovelinesse  of  Love-lockes,  or  a  discourse  proving  the 
wearing  of  a  locke  to  be  unseemly ;"  and  in  his  Histriomastix  he  speaks 
of  "long,  unshorne,  love-provoking  haire,  and  lovelockes  growne  now 
too  much  in  fashion  with  comly  pages,  youthes,  and  lewd,  effeminate, 
ruffianly  persons." 

Borrows  money  in  God's  name.     That  is,  begs  it ;  alluding  to  Prov. 


!68  NOTES. 

xix.  17  (Steevens).  HalHwell  says  that  this  phrase  was  used  in  the 
counterfeit  passports  of  the  beggars,  as  appears  from  Dekker's  Eng- 
lish Villanies.  He  also  cites  Per ci vale's  Dictionarie  in  Spanish  and 
English,  1599:  "  Pordioseros,  men  that  aske  for  God's  sake,  beggers." 

294.  Hath  used.  Hath  used  to  do,  has  made  a  practice  of.  Cf.  J.  C. 
i.  i.  14 :  "a  trade  that  I  may  use  with  a  safe  conscience,"  etc. 

302.  God  save  the  foundation  !  "  The  customary  phrase  employed  by 
those  who  received  alms  at  the  gates  of  religious  nouses"  (Steevens). 

316.  Lewd.  Vile,  base.  See  Rich.  II.  p.  152.  Cf.  Acts,  xvii.  5.  Hal- 
liwell  quotes  Ba.rettA/vearte:  "  Lewd,  ingratious,  naughtie,  impr obits,  pra- 
vus,  impurus" 

SCENE  II. — 5.  There  is  a  play  on  style  and  stile,  and  on  come  over  in 
the  senses  of  surpass  and  get  over  (Schmidt).  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  \.  \.  201  : 
"  Well,  sir,  be  it  as  the  style  shall  give  us  cause  to  climb  in  the  merri- 
ness  ;"  Id.  iv.  i.  98  : 

"  Bay  ft.  I  am  much  deceiv'd  but  I  remember  the  style. 
Princess.  Else  your  memory  is  bad,  going  o'er  it  erewhile." 

7.  Shall  I  always  keep  below  stairs  ?  That  is,  in  the  servant's  room, 
and  never  get  married  (Schmidt).  Theo.  wished  to  read  "above  stairs," 
and  Steevens  suggested  "  keep  men  below  stairs." 

14.  I givethee  the  bucklers.  I  yield  thee  the  victory.  Steevens  quotes 
Greene,  Coney  -  Catching,  1592  :  "At  this  his  master  laught,  and  was 
glad,  for  further  advantage,  to  yield  the  bucklers  to  his  prentise  ;"  and 
Holland's  Pliny:  "it  goeth  against  his  stomach  to  yeeld  the  gauntlet 
and  give  the  bucklers." 

19.  Pikes.  "The  circular  bucklers  of  the  i6th  century,  now  called 
more  commonly  targets,  had  frequently  a  central  spike,  or  pike,  usually 
affixed  by  a  screw.  It  was  probably  found  convenient  to  detach  this 
spike  occasionally  ;  for  instance,  in  cleaning  the  buckler,  etc.  Vice  is 
the  French  vis,  a  screw  "  (Thorns). 

24.  The  God  of  love,  etc.  The  beginning  of  an  old  song  by  William 
Elderton  (Ritson). 

30.  Carpet-mongers.  Carpet  knights,  effeminate  persons.  Cf.  T.  N. 
iii.  4.  258  :  "  He  is  knight,  dubbed  with  unhatched  rapier,  and  on  carpet 
consideration." 

34.  No  rhyme  to  '•lady''  but  ' baby?  This  rhyme  occurs  in  the  Musa- 
rum  Delicice,  quoted  by  Halliwell  : 

"  Whilst  all  those  naked  bedlams,  painted  babies, 
Spottified  faces,  and  Frenchified  ladies." 

37.  Festival  terms.  In  distinction  from  e very-day  language.  Cf.  M. 
W.  iii.  2.  69 :  "  he  writes  verses,  he  speaks  holiday ;"  and  i  Hen.  IV.  i. 
3.  46  :  "  With  many  holiday  and  lady  terms."  See  also  M.  of  V.  ii.  9. 
98  :  "  highday  wit,"  etc. 

42.  I  came.     That  is,  camey^r.     See  on  v.  I.  237  above. 

45.  Words  is.     See  Gr.  333. 

48.  His.     Its.     See  Gr.  228. 

50.  Undergoes.     Is  subject  to. 

51.  Subscribe  him.     Write  him  down,  proclaim  him. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  IIL  169 

67.  Of  good  neighbours.  "  That  is,  when  men  were  not  envious,  but 
every  one  gave  another  his  due"  (Warb.). 

69    Monument.     The  folio  has  "  monuments"  and  "bells  ring. 

71.  Question.     That  's  the  question.     Some  eds.  print  "  Question?"^ 
do  you  ask  the  question  ? 

72.  Rheum.     Tears.     Cf.  K.  John,  iii.  I.  22  :  "Why  holds  thine  eye 
that  lamentable,  rheum?"  (see  also  iv.  i.  33  and  iv.  3.  108);   Cor.  v.  6. 
46:  "a  few  drops  of  women's  rheum;"  Ham.  ii.  2.  529:  "with  bisson 
rheum,"  etc. 

77  Don  Worm.  Conscience  was  formerly  represented  under  the 
symbol  of  a  worm.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  222  :  "  The  worm  of  conscience 
still  begnaw  thy  soul !"  In  an  account  of  the  expenses  connected  with 
one  of  the  old  Coventry  mysteries,  we  find  "  Item,  payd  to  ij  wormes  of 
conscience,  xvj.  d." 

83.  Yonder  's  old  coil.     In  modern  slang,  "  there  s  a  high  old  time. 
For  old  as  a  "  colloquial  intensive,"  cf.  M.  of  V.  iv.  2.  15  :  "old  swear- 
incr-"  Macb.  ii.  3.  2:  "old  turning  of  the  key,"  etc.     See  Macb.  p.  197. 
CVw7  =  turmoil,  confusion.     Halliwell  cites  Cotgrave,  Fr.  Diet.:   "  Faire 
le  diable  de  vauuert,  to  play  reaks,  to  keep  an  old  coile,  a  horrible  stirre. 
See  also  on  iii.  3.  85  above. 

84.  Abused.     Deceived.     Cf.  Temp.  v.  i.  112  :    "Or  some  enchanted 
trifle  to  abuse  me,"  etc.     See  also  Macb.  p.  187. 

87.  Presently.     Immediately.     See  on  i.  i.  74  above. 

SCENE  III. — 3.  Done  to  death.  A  common  phrase  in  old  writers.  Cf. 
Promos  and  Cassandra,  1578  :  "  Is  my  Andrugio  done  to  death  ?"  Mar- 
lowe, Lusfs  Dominion :  "  Thinking  her  own  son  is  done  to  death  ;" 
Chapman,  Homer:  "Hector  (in  Chi)  to  death  is  done,"  etc.  See  also 
2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  179:  "Why,  Warwick,  who*  should  do  the  duke  to 
death  ?" 

5.  Guerdon.  Recompense.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iii.  i.  170:  "There  's  thy 
guerdon."  S.  uses  the  noun  only  twice  ;  but  he  has  the  verb  in  2  Hen. 
VI.  i.  4.  49  and  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  3.  191. 

10.  Dumb.     The  folio  reading  ;  the  quarto  misprints  "  dead." 

11.  Music.     Musicians;  as  often.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  211  :  "Play,  mu- 
sic, then  !"  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  98  :  "  It  is  your  music,  madam,  of  the  house  ;" 
Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2.  94  :    "  Bid  the  music  leave  ;   they  are  harsh  to  me," 
etc. 

13.  Knight.  The  Coll.  MS.  substitutes  "bright;",  but  cf.  A.  W.  i.  3. 
120:  "  Dian  no  queen  of  virgins,  that  would  suffer  her  poor  knight  sur- 
prised, without  rescue  in  the  first  assault  or  ransom  afterward."  Malone 
quotes  Two  Noble  Kinsmen  : 

"O  sacred,  shadowy,  cold,  and  constant  queen, 
.  .  .  who  to  thy  female  knights 
Allow' st  no  more  blood  than  will  make  a  blush, 
Which  is  their  order's  robe,"  etc. 

For  the  rhyme  of  night  and  knight,  cf.  M.  W.  ii.  i.  15,  16. 

21.  Heavily,  heavily.  The  quarto  reading;  the  folio  has  "  Heauenly, 
heauenly"  which  is  adopted  by  K.,  St.,  and  W.  "  Uttered  heavenly"  is 


170 


NOTES. 


explained  as  — "expelled  (outer-ed)  by  the  power  of  Heaven."  Walker 
calls  the  folio  reading  "a  most  absurd  error,  generated  (ut  scepe)  by  the 
corruption  of  an  uncommon  word  into  a  common  one."  In  Ham.  ii.  2. 
309,  the  folio  has  the  same  misprint  of  heavenly  for  heavily.  Halliwell 
explains  the  passage  thus :  "  The  slayers  of  the  virgin  knight  are  per- 
forming a  solemn  requiem  on  the  body  of  Hero,  and  they  invoke  Mid- 
night and  the  shades  of  the  dead  to  assist,  until  her  death  be  uttered, 
that  is,  proclaimed,  published,  sorrowfully,  sorrowfully."  Schmidt  says  : 
"  the  cry,  Graves,  yawn  and  yield  your  dead,  shall  be  raised  till  death, 
etc. ;"  we  prefer,  with  Halliwell  and  Walker,  to  consider  these  words  as 
"a  call  upon  the  surrounding  dead  to  come  forth  from  their  graves,  as 
auditors  or  sharers  in  the  solemn  lamentation."  J.  H.  reads  "heaven- 
ly," and  takes  the  meaning  to  be,  "  Let  these  words  be  uttered  in  a  heav- 
enly spirit  until  death,  that  is,  so  long  as  I  live  !" 

22.  Now,  unto,  etc.  Both  quarto  and  folio  assign  this  speech  to  "Z0." 
(Lord),  but  Rowe  restored  it  to  Claudio,  to  whom  it  clearly  belongs. 

25.   Wolves.     Associated  with  night,  as  in  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  379,  Macb.  ii. 

1.  53,  etc.     The  lines  that  follow  are  one  of  the  most  exquisite  of  Shake- 
speare's word-pictures  of  the  sunrise.     Cf.  Milton's  "  dappled  dawn"  in 
L1  Allegro. 

29.  Several.     Separate.     See   Temp.  p.   131.     Cf.  its  use  as  a  noun 
(= individual)  in  W.  T.  i.  2.  226,  and  see  also  Hen.  V.  p.  146. 

30.  Weeds.     Garments,  dress.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  256:  "Weed  wide 
enough  to  wrap  a  fairy  in;"  Id.  ii.  2.  71  :  "  Weeds  of  Athens  he  doth 
wear,"  etc. 

32.  Speed  'j.     That  is,  speed  us  (3d  person,  imperative)  ;  Thirlby's 
emendation  of  the  "speeds"  of  the  early  eds.      "Claudio   could  not 
know,  without  being  a  prophet,  that  this  new  proposed  match  should 
have  any  luckier  event  Chan  that  designed  with  Hero ;  certainly,  there- 
fore, this  should  be  a  wish."    Malone  objects  to  the  contraction  speed  9s; 
but  D.  compares  L.  L.  L.  ii.  i.  25  :  "  Therefore  to  's  seemeth  it  a  need- 
ful course."     An  example  more  in  point  would  be  W.  T.  i.  2.  91  :  "I 
prithee  tell  me  ;  cram  's  with  praise,  and  make  's,"  etc.     See  also  Id.  i. 

2.  94:  "you  may  ride  's  ;"  A.  and  C.  ii.  7.  134  :  "give  's  your  hand," 
etc. 

33.  Render  up  this  woe.     Offer  this  woful  tribute.     Cf.  T.  A.  \.  I.  160  : 

"  Lo!  at  this  tomb  my  tributary  tears 
I  render  for  my  brethren's  obsequies  ;' ' 

and  K.  John,  v.  7.  1 10  :  "  O,  let  us  pay  the  time  but  needful  woe  !" 

SCENE  IV. — 3.  Upon.     On  account  of.     See  on  iv.  i.  221  above. 

6.  Question.     Inquiry,  investigation. 

7.  Sort.     Turn  out.     Cf.  iv.  i.  238  above. 

8.  By  faith  enforced.     Compelled  by  my  pledge,  obliged  in  honour. 
Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  63  :  "  inward  joy  enforc'd  my  heart  to  smile,"  etc. 

17.  Confirmed  countenance.  Steady  face.  Cf.  Cor.  i.  3.  65  :  "has  such 
a  confirmed  countenance." 

28.  For.     As  for.     Cf.  iii.  2.  85  above. 

30.  State.     The  reading  of  the  early  eds.  changed  by  Johnson  to  "  es- 


ACT  V.     SCENE  IV. 


171 


tate."     Steevens  makes  marriage  a  trisyllable ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  9.  13, 
T.  ofS.  iii.  2.  142,  R.  of  L.  221,  etc. 

33.  Comes.     See  Gr.  336. 

34.  Assembly.     A  quadrisyllable  here.     Cf.  Cor.  i.  I.  159:  "You,  the 
great  toe  of  this  assembly."     Gr.  477. 

37.  To  marry  with.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  i.  I.  40  :  "  to  marry  with  Deme- 
trius," etc. 

38.  Ethiope.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  166. 
43.  Bull.     See  on  v.  i.  173  above. 

45.  Eiiropa.  Europe  ;  with  an  obvious  play  upon  the  word.  For  the 
allusion,  cf.  M.  W.  v.  5.  4  and  T.ofS.\.  i.  173. 

52.  Comes.     Changed  by  Rowe  to  "come."     Gr.  335. 
59.  Like  of  me.     Cf.  P.  P.  212  : 

"  It  was  a  lordling's  daughter,  the  fairest  one  of  three, 
That  liked  of  her  master  as  well  as  well  might  be ;" 

A.  W.  ii.  3.  131  : 

"thou  dislikest 
Of  virtue  for  the  name,"  etc. 
See  Gr.  177. 

62.  Certainer.     See  Gr.  7. 

63.  Defil'd.     The  quarto   reading  ;    the  folio  omits  the  word.     The 
Coll.  MS.  has  "belied,"  which  Coll.  defends  on  the  ground  that  Hero 
wouftl  not  be  likely  to  speak  of  herself  as  defiled.     Of  course  Hero 
meant  defiled  by  slander  (cf.  what  Leonato  says  immediately  after),  and 
now  that  her  innocence  was  established  no  one  present  could  misunder- 
stand her. 

66.  Whiles.     See  on  iv.  I.  217  above. 

67.  Qualify.     Moderate,  abate.     Cf.  Lear,  i.  2.  176  :  "till  some  little 
time  hath  qualified  the  heat  of  his  displeasure,"  etc. 

68.  After  that.     For  that  as  a  "  conjunctional  affix,"  see  Gr.  287. 

69.  Largely.     "At  large  "  (M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  152,  etc.),  in  detail. 

70.  Familiar.     A  quadrisyllable.     Gr.  479. 

71.  Presently.     See  on  i.  i.  74  above. 

72.  Soft  and  fair.     A  common  phrase  of  the  time.     Cf.  soft  you,  v.  I. 
194  above. 

82.  No  suck  matter.     See  on  ii.  3.  198  above. 

89.  Writ.     Used  often  by  S.  both  as  past  tense  and  participle ;  but 
we  have  written  just  above.     Gr.  343. 

90.  Affection  tmto.    Love  for.    Cf.  Lear,  i.  2.  94  :  "  my  affection  to  your 
honour,"  etc. 

92.  By  this  light.  See  on  v.  I.  137  above.  Cf.  by  t 'his  good  day  just  be- 
low. 

97.  Peace,  etc.  Given  by  the  early  eds.  to  Leonato  ;  corrected  by  Theo., 
who  added  the  stage-direction.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  i.  95  :  "  One  kiss  shall 
stop  our  mouths,"  etc.  See  also  ii.  I.  278  above. 

100.  Flout.     Mock,  jeer.     See  on  i.  i.  162  above. 

102.  Beaten  with  brains.  That  is,  mocked.  Schmidt  compares  Ham. 
ii.  2.  376:  "much  throwing  about  of  brains"  (  =  much  satirical  contro- 
versy). 


172 


NOTES. 


108.  In  that.  Inasmuch  as.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  i.  I.  50 :  "  in  that  you  are 
the  first-born,"  etc. 

112.  Double-dealer.    "One  notoriously  unfaithful  in  love  or  wedlock" 
(St.). 

113.  Exceeding.     For  the  adverbial  use,  see  on  ii.  3.  146  above,  and 
cf.  iii.  4.  22,  47,  etc. 

119.  Of  my  word.  Upon  my  word.  Cf.  R.  and  y.  i.  I.  I,  etc.  Gr. 
169. 

121.  More  reverend.  That  is,  because  it  is  used  by  elderly  people. 
The  tipped  staff  was  one  of  the  usual  accompaniments  of  old  age  (Hal- 
livvell).  Cf.  Chaucer,  C.  T.  7322  :  "  His  felaw  [one  of  the  begging  friars] 
had  a  staf  typped  with  horn.':  In  horn  there  is  the  well-worn  hit  at  the 
cuckold. 

124.  With.     By;  as  in  ii.  I.  53,  iii.  I.  66,  79,  and  v.  i.  115  above.     Gr. 

193- 

126.  Brave.  Becoming, fitting  (Schmidt);  or  perhaps  with  a  touch  of 
irony,  as  often.  Cf.  Temp.  iii.  2.  12,  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  4.  43,  Ham.  ii.  2.  611,  etc. 


ADDENDUM. 

Note  on  p.  23. — To  the  comments  of  Verplanck,  Furnivall,  and  Ger- 
vinus  on  Campbell's  opinion  of  Beatrice,  may  be  added  the  following 
from  Charles  Cowden  Clarke's  Shakespeare-Characters,  p.  295  : 

"In  the  general  estimation  of  the  world,  Beatrice  is  one  of  those  who 
wear  their  characters  inside  out.  They  have  no  reserves  with  society, 
for  they  require  none.  They  may,  perhaps,  presume  upon,  or  rather  for- 
get that  they  possess  a  mercurial  temperament,  which,  when  unreined,  is 
apt  to  start  from  its  course  and  inconvenience  their  fellow-travellers ; 
but  such  a  propensity  is  not  an  *  odious '  one — it  is  not  hateful ;  and  this 
is  the  only  feature  in  the  character  of  Beatrice  that  Mr.  Campbell  could 
object  to.  She  is  warm-hearted,  generous  ;  has  a  noble  contempt  of 
baseness  of  every  kind  ;  is  wholly  untinctured  with  jealousy  ;  is  the 
first  to  break  out  into  invective  when  her  cousin  Hero  is  treated  in 
that  scoundrel  manner  by  her  affianced  husband  at  the  very  altar,  and 
even  makes  it  a  sine  qua  non  with  Benedick  to  prove  his  love  for  her- 
self by  challenging  the  traducer  of  her  cousin.  .  .  . 

"Beatrice  is  not  without  consciousness  of  her  power  of  wit;  but  it  is 
rather  the  delight  she  takes  in  something  that  is  an  effluence  of  her  own 
glad  nature,  than  for  any  pride  of  display.  She  enjoys  its  exercise,  too, 
as  a  means  of  playful  despotism  over  one  whom  she  secretly  admires, 
while  openly  tormenting.  .  .  . 

"  The  fact  is,  like  many  high-spirited  women,  Beatrice  possesses  a  fund 
of  hidden  tenderness  beneath  her  exterior  gayety  and  sarcasm  —  none 
the  less  profound  from  being  withheld  from  casual  view,  and  very  sel- 
dom allowed  to  bewray  itself.  As  proof  of  this,  witness  her  affection 
for  her  uncle  Leonato,  and  his  strong  esteem  and  love  for  her  ;  her  pas- 
sionate attachment  to  her  cousin  Hero,  and  the  occasional  but  extreme- 


ADDENDUM. 


173 


ly  significant  betrayals  of  her  partiality  for  Benedick ;  her  very  seeking 
out  opportunities  to  torment  him  being  one  proof  (especially  in  a  woman 
of  her  disposition  and  breeding)  of  her  preference ;  for  women  do  not 
banter  a  man  they  dislike — they  mentally  send  him  to  Coventry,  and  do 
not  raise  him  into  importance  by  offering  an  objection,  still  less  a  rep- 
artee or  a  sarcasm.  The  only  time  we  see  Beatrice  alone,  and  giving 
utterance  to  the  thoughts  of  her  heart — that  is,  in  soliloquy,  which  is  the 
dramatic  medium  of  representing  self-communion  [iii.  i.  107-116] — her 
words  are  full  of  warm  and  feminine  tenderness, — words  that  probably 
would  not  seem  so  pregnant  of  love-import,  coming  from  another  wom- 
an, more  prone  to  express  such  feeling ;  but,  from  Beatrice,  meaning 
much.  It  is  the  very  transcript  of  an  honest  and  candid  heart.  .  .  . 

"  It  is  not  unusual  to  designate  her  (as  well  as  Portia)  as  a  '  masculine 
woman.'  I  can  only  say  that  every  man  who  expresses  this  opinion 
commits  a  piece  of  egoism,  for  both  women  are  endowed  with  qualities, 
moral  and  intellectual,  that  any  man  might  be  proud  to  inherit.  And 
here  it  is  impossible  to  forego  a  passing  remark  upon  the  generous,  in- 
deed the  chivalrous  conduct  of  Shakespeare  in  portraying  his  women. 
Of  all  the  writers  that  ever  existed,  no  one  ought  to  stand  so  high  in  the 
love  and  gratitude  of  women  as  he.  He  has  indeed  been  their  cham- 
pion, their  laureate,  their  brother,  their  friend.  He  has  been  the  man  to 
lift  them  from  a  state  of  vassalage  and  degradation,  wherein  they  were 
the  mere  toys,  when  not  the  she-serfs,  of  a  sensual  tyranny ;  and  he  has 
asserted  their  prerogative,  as  intellectual  creatures,  to  be  the  compan- 
ions (in  the  best  sense),  the  advisers,  the  friends,  the  equals  of  men.  He 
has  endowed  them  with  the  true  spirit  of  Christianity  and  brotherly  love, 
'  enduring  all  things,  forgiving  all  things,  hoping  all  things  ;'  and  it  is  no 
less  remarkable  that,  with  a  prodigality  of  generosity,  he  has  not  unfre- 
quently  placed  the  heroes  in  his  stories  at  a  disadvantage  with  them. 
Observe,  for  instance,  the  two  characters  of  Hero  and  Claudio  in  this 
very  play."  .  .  . 


r»  /-         .  IVUK,  me  genue  aay, 

Before  the  wheels  of  Phoebus,  round  about 

-Dapples  the  drowsy  east  with  spots  of  grey"  (v.  3  25). 


INDEX   OF  WORDS   AND   PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 


a  (with  verbal),  145. 

abused  (^deceived),  169. 

account,  to  make  an,  129. 

ache  (pronunciation),  150. 

achiever,  118. 

Adam,  124. 

advertisement,  162. 

advise,  158. 

afeard,  138. 

affect  (=lovev,  124. 

affection,  135. 

affection  unto,  171. 

after  (adverb),  125. 

agate,  141. 

aim  at,  144. 

alms,  138. 

ancientry,  129. 

angel  (play  upon),  136. 

answer  (legal),  166. 

antic  (—buffoon),  141. 

anticly,  164. 

apparitions  (pronunciation), 

I55u 

apprehension,  150. 
approved    (^proved), 

153,  158- 

argument  (—discourse),  142. 
argument  (—proof),  139. 
argument   (^subject),    123, 

135- 

arras,  128. 
as  (omitted),  138. 
as  full  as  (=fully  as),  140. 
assembly    ( quadrisyllable ), 

171. 

at  a  word,  130. 
Ate,  132. 
attired  in  wonder,  155. 

badge,  118. 

baldrick,  123. 

barns  (play  upon),  150. 

bear-herd,  129. 

bear  in  hand,  158. 

bear  it  coldly,  145. 

beaten  with  brains,  171. 

become  of  (=come  of),  157. 

being  that,  158. 


bent,  139,  156. 

cinque-pace,  129. 

i69. 

beshrew,  162. 

circumstances,  145. 

129. 

bethink  you,  167. 

civil  (play  upon),  133. 

150. 

bill  (play  upon),  148. 

claw  (=flatter),  126. 

bills,  setting  up,  118. 

clerk,  130. 

bills  (weapons),  145. 

cog,  164. 

bird-bolt,  119. 

coil,  146,  169. 

biting,  156. 

commendable  (accent),  141. 

black  (—dark),  141. 

commodity  (play  upon;,  148 

blazon,  133. 

composed,  167. 

block,  120. 

conceit,  133. 

blood  (^disposition),  127. 

conditions,  144. 

blood  (=passion),  131,  138. 

conference,  139,  140. 

bloods,  147. 

confirmed  countenance,  170. 

boarded,  130. 

conjecture  (--suspicion),  154. 

Borachio  (derivation),  147. 

consummate,  142. 

borrow    money    in     God's 

contemptible,  139 

6. 

name,  167. 

content  yourself,  164. 

both  in  a  tale,  160. 

controlment,  127. 

brave,  172. 

convert  (intransitive),  121. 

break  with,  125. 

conveyance,  132. 

iation), 

breathing  (—interval),  134. 

counsel,  139. 

bring  (=accompany),  143. 

Count  Comfect,  159. 

broke  cross,  165. 

county   (=  count),  131,  134, 

),    i34, 

bucklers,  to  give  the,  168. 

jrg. 

by  (=  about),  167. 

courtesies,  159. 

e),  142. 

by  (:=from),  155. 

cousins,  126. 

i39- 

by  the  mass,  160. 

cry  you  mercy,  126. 

),    123, 

by  this  (of  time),  117. 

cunning  (~knowing),  166. 

by  this  light,  165. 

curiously,  165. 

curtsy,  129,  159. 

candle-wasters,  161. 

cuts,  149. 

liable  ), 

canker  (=canker-rose),  127. 
capon  (play  upon),  165. 
Carduus  benedictus,  150. 

daffed,  138,  163. 
dangerous,  164. 

care  killed  a  cat,  165. 

deadly  (adverb),  166. 

carpet-mongers,  168. 

dear,  121. 

5- 

carriage  (^bearing),  127. 

defeat  (=ruin),  153. 

carry  (=manage),  139,  157. 
censured  (—judged),  139. 

defend  (=forbid),  129,  160. 
deny  (—refuse),  158. 

certainer,  171. 

deprave  (=slander),  164. 

0. 

chain  (usurer's),  131. 

difference,  for  a,  120. 

Cham,  the  great,  132. 

discover  (=  re  veal),  126,  138, 

charge  (=burden),  121. 

144. 

charge  (constable's),  145. 

displeasure  to,  135. 

Ti- 

cheapen, 136. 

division,  166. 

to  '57. 

cheer,  128. 

do  him  so  ill-well,  130. 

,  chid  at,  155. 

do  me  right,  165. 

176     INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


doctor  (^learned  man),  166. 

go  about  (—undertake),  126, 

Jacks,  164. 

Dogberry,  145. 

154,  1  60. 

jade's  trick,  121. 

Don  Worm,  169. 

go  in  (—join  in),  122. 

Jew  (contemptuous),  140. 

done  to  death,  169. 

go  to  church,  134. 

just  (=  exact),  134. 

dotage,  138. 
double-dealer,  172. 

go  to  the  world,  133. 
God  save   the   foundation  ! 

just  (—just  so),  129,  165. 

doubt  (—suspect),  164. 

168. 

keep  below  stairs,  168. 

down  sleeves,  149. 

God  's  a  good  man,  152. 

kid-fox,  136. 

draw,  164. 

good  den,  144,  162. 

kind  (^natural),  118. 

draw  (play  upon),  143. 

good  year,  the,  126. 

kindly  (=natural  ,  154 

dumb  show,  139. 

grace  (^favour),  127,  135. 

kindness  (=tenderness  ,  1  18. 

dumps,  137. 

gracious  (=lovely),  154. 

knight  (feminine),  169. 

guarded  (=trimmed;,  124. 

eat  (Beaten),  156. 

guerdon,  169. 

labour  (transitive),  167. 

eat  your  word,  158. 

guts,  137. 

antern,  145. 

ecstasy  (=madness),  138. 

lapwing,  140. 

eftest,  160. 

had  as  lief,  137. 

arge  (=free,  broad),  139,  153. 

enamoured  on,  131. 

had  like,  164. 

argely,  171. 

encounters,  154. 

haggards,  140. 

earn  (=;teach),  153. 

enforced  (=compelled),  170. 

hale  (=draw),  137. 

eavy,  137. 

engaged  (^pledged),  159. 

halfpence,  138. 

et  it  cool,  139. 

enraged  (—  intense"1,  138. 

hand,  a  dry,  130. 

evel  (=aim),  158. 

entertained  for,  127 

lang  (play  upon),  143. 

ewd  (—vile),  168. 

estimation  (=worth),  135. 

langman,  143. 

liberal  (^licentious),  154. 

Ethiope,  171. 
Euro  pa,  171. 

lappiness,  outward,  139. 
lave  it  full,  121. 

light  (play  upon),  149. 
Light  o'  love,  150. 

even  (=plain),  158. 

aear  tell,  134. 

like  of  me,  171. 

every  day,  tomorrow,  142. 

ieart-burned,  128. 

limed,  142. 

exceeding  (adverb),  138,  172. 
exceeds  (intransitive),  148. 

heavily,  169. 
Hercules,  the  shaven,  147. 

iver,  157. 
lock  (=love-lock),  148,  167. 

excellent  (adverb),  138. 

high-proof,  164. 

lodge  in  a  warren,  a,  131. 

eye  and  prospect,  157. 

his  (=its),  168. 

ow  (of  stature),  141. 

faith,  120,  170. 

hobby-horses,  144. 
hold  'friends  with,  121. 

lustihood,  163. 
lute-string,  144. 

familiar  (quadrisyllable),  171. 

hold  it  up,  138. 

luxurious  (—lustful),  153. 

fancy  (=love),  143. 
fashion-monging,  164. 
father  (verb),  121. 

holds  you  well,  144. 
holp,  119. 
honest  as  the  skin  between 

mannerly  (adverb  \  129. 
March-chick,  127. 

favour  (=face),  129. 

his  brows,  151. 

marry  with,  171. 

fence,  163. 

how  (^however),  141,  165. 

match  (=marry),  129. 

festival  terms,  168. 

Hundred  Merry  Tales,  130. 

matter  (=sense),  134 

fetch  in,  123. 

may  (—can),  135,  154,  158. 

fine  (=end),  123. 

I  '11  none,  129,  135. 

me,  128,  148. 

fire  in  the  ears,  142. 

idea  (=image),  157. 

measure  (play  upon),  129. 

fleer,  162. 
flight  (=arrow),  119. 

important   (  —  importunate  ), 
129. 

medicinable,  135. 
meet  with  (=even  with),  119. 

flout  (=mock),  164,  171. 

impose  me  to,  167. 

merely  (=entirely),  139. 

flout  old  ends,  124. 

impossible,  130,  132. 

mile  (plural),  135. 

flouting-Jack,  121. 

in  (^into),  135. 

mired,  155. 

foining,  163. 

in  dearness  of  heart.  145. 

misgovernment,  154. 

fool,  133. 

in  question,  148. 

misprising,  141. 

for  (=as  for),  144,  170. 

in  respect  of,  149. 

misprision,  156. 

fore,  139. 

in  such  a  kind,  156. 

misuse  (^deceive),  135. 

frame  (=devising\  156. 

in  that,  172. 

misused  (-  abused),  132. 

frame  (=order),  155. 

in  the  fleet.  130. 

model,  127. 

framed  (=devised),  163. 

in  the  height,  158. 

moe,  137. 

from  (—away  from),  141. 

incensed,  166. 

Montanto,  118. 

full  of  proof,  164. 

infinite,  138. 

moral,  151,  162. 

furnish  (—dress),  142. 

instances,  135. 

mortal,  we  are  all,  120- 

gallop,  false,  151. 

intend  (=pretend),  135. 
invention,  156,  167. 

mortifying,  126. 
mountain  of  affection,  134. 

girdle,  to  turn  his,  165. 

inwardness,  158. 

move  (a  question),  154. 

gives  me  out,  131. 

music  (^musicians),  169. 

INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED.     177 


naught,  165. 

naughty,  160,  167. 

near  (^intimate  with),  130. 

news  (number),  125,  131. 

night-gown,  149. 

night-raven,  137. 

no  such  matter,  122,  139, 171. 

noble  (play  upon),  136. 

non-come,  152. 

not  (transposed),  156. 

note  (—mark),  144. 

nothing  (pronunciation),  136. 

nuptial,  154. 

of  (=by),  121. 

of  my  word,  172. 

off  the  matter,  151. 

old,  169. 

on  (=of),  155. 

only  (transposed),  130,  143. 

orchard  (^garden),  126,  135. 

orthography,  135. 

ostentation,  157. 

outfacing,  164. 

outward  hideousness,  164. 

overborne,  138. 

overmastered,  129. 

packed,  167. 

palabras,  151. 

partridge  wing,  130. 

passion  (=sorrow),  162. 

patience  (trisyllable),  161. 

pent-house,  146. 

Philemon's  roof,  130. 

piece  of  flesh,  161. 

Pigmies,  133. 

pikes,  168. 

pleached,  140. 

pleasant,  118. 

please  it,  121. 

pleasure  (verb),  165. 

pluck  up,  1 66. 

possessed  (—influenced),  148. 

possessed  (^informed),  167. 

pound  (plural),  121,  151. 

practice    (=  plotting),    156, 

167. 

preceptial  medicine,  162. 
predestinate,  121. 
present  (^represent),  146. 
presently,  121,  125,  135,  158, 

169,  171. 

press  to  death,  141. 
Prester  John,  132. 
prized  (^estimated),  142. 
project,  141. 

proof  (^experience),  131. 
proof  (=trial),  153. 
proper   (^handsome),   139, 

165. 

proper  (ironical),  127,  159. 
propose  (noun),  140. 


proposing    (  =  conversing  ), 

stalk  (verb),  137. 

140. 

start-up,  128. 

protest  (^proclaim),  165. 

still  (=  constantly),  121. 

push,  162. 

stomach,  126. 

stops  (of  lute),  144. 

quaint,  149. 

strain  (—family),  134. 

qualify,  171. 

strain  (=feeling),  161. 

quarrel  to,  a,  132. 

study,  157. 

queasy,  134. 

stuff,  140. 

question,  169. 

stuffed,  119. 

quips,  139. 

style  (play  upon),  168. 

quit  (—requite),  156. 

style  ot  gods,  162. 

subscribe,  168. 

rabato,  148. 

success  (=issue),  158. 

rack,  157. 

sufferance,  162. 

ready  (=dressed),  150. 

suffigance,  152. 

rearward,  154. 

suit  (=agree),  161. 

reasons  (play  upon),  166. 

sun-burnt,  133. 

recheat,  123. 

sure,  128. 

reclusive,  158. 

swift  (—ready),  142. 

reechy,  147. 

sworn  brother,  120. 

remorse  (=pity),  157. 
render  (=give),  153. 

take  up  (play  upon),  148. 

render  up  this  woe,  170. 
reportingly,  142. 

tax  (rrreproach),  119. 
temper  (=mix),  135. 

reprove  (^disprove),  139. 

temporize,  124. 

reverence,  162. 

terminations,  132. 

rheum  (=tears),  169. 

that,  125,  138,  171. 

rob  from,  127. 

thee  (=thou),  14°,  153- 

there  's  an  end,  130. 

's  (=it's),  148. 

thick-pleached,  126. 

sad  (=serious),  121,  134. 
sadly  (—seriously),  139. 

this  seven  year,  147. 
throughly,  157. 

salved,  125. 
Saturn,  born  under,  126. 
saving  your  reverence,  149. 

thy  much,  154. 
tickling  (trisyllable),  142. 
tire  (=head-dress),  148. 

scab  (play  upon),  146. 
scambling,  164. 

't  is  once,  125. 
to  (in  comparisons),  166. 

scape,  121. 

to  thy  head,  162. 

scorn  with  my  heels,  150. 
season,  155. 

tongues,  he  hath  the,  165. 
toothache,  charm  for,  144* 

self-endeared,  141. 

toothpicker,  132. 

sentences,  139 

trace  (=walk),  140. 

several  (^separate),  170. 

trans-shape,  165. 

shames,  155. 

trencher-man,  119. 

shrewd,  128. 

trial  of  a  man,  163. 

side  sleeves,  149. 

trim  (ironical),  159. 

sigh  away  Sundays,  122. 

trow,  150. 

simpleness,  141. 

tuition,  124. 

sits  the  wind,  etc.,  138. 

turned  Turk,  150. 

slops,  143. 

tyrant,  121. 

smirched,  147. 

so  (—provided  that),  129. 

unconfirmed,  147. 

soft  and  fair,  171. 

underborne,  149. 

soft  you,  1  66. 

undergoes,  168. 

sort  (—fall  out),  158,  170. 

untowardly,  145. 

sort  (=rank),  118. 

up  and  down,  130. 

speed  's,  170. 

upon,  157,  160,  167,  170. 

spell  backward,  141. 

use  (=interest),  133. 

spirits  (monosyllable),  354. 

used  (^practised),  168. 

squarer,  121. 

staff  (=lance),  165. 

valuing  of,  155. 

stale  (=wanton),  135,  154. 

Verges,  145. 

M 

i78 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


vice  (= screw),  168. 
victual,  119. 
vouchsafe,  143. 

wag  (—begone),  161. 

wake  (=rouse),  164. 

weak,  141. 

weeds  (=dress),  170. 

well-favoured,  145. 

well-suited,  166. 

what  (=who),  1 1 8,  130. 

what  is  he  for  a  fool  ?  127. 

when  all's  done,  137. 


whiles,  157,  167,  171. 
whisper  (transitive),  140. 
who  (=whom),  122,  166. 
willow  (emblem  of  unhappy 

love),  131. 

win  me  and  wear  me,  163. 
winded,  123. 
wisdoms,  166. 
wish  (=bid),  140. 
wit  (=wisdom),  139. 
with  (=by),  129, 172. 
withal,  126,  140. 
wits,  five,  120. 


woe,  170. 

wolves,  170. 

woo,  136. 

woodcock  (applied  to  a  fool), 

165. 

woollen,  in  the,  129. 
world  to  see,  a,  151. 
worm  (causing  toothache), 

143- 

worm  (of  conscience),  169. 
would,  138.  _ 
wring  (^writhe),  162. 
writ  (^written),  138,  171. 


OMPHALE   AND   HERCULES   (iii.  3.  124). 


SHAKESPEARE. 

WITH   NOTES   BY  WM.  J.  ROLFE,  A.M. 


THE  MERCHANT   OF  VEN- 
ICE. 

THE   TEMPEST. 
JULIUS   CAESAR. 
HAMLET. 

HENRY   THE   FIFTH. 
MACBETH. 
TWELFTH   NIGHT. 
AS  YOU  LIKE  IT. 
KING  JOHN. 


HENRY  THE   EIGHTH. 

RICHARD   THE  SECOND. 

A  MIDSUMMER  -  NIGHT'S 
DREAM. 

MUCH  ADO  ABOUT  NOTH- 
ING. 

ROMEO   AND  JULIET. 

OTHELLO. 

WINTER'S  TALE. 

HENRY  IV.    Part  I.    (In  Press.) 


ILLUSTRATED.     i6MO,  CLOTH,  70  CENTS  PER  VOLUME;   PAPER, 
50  CENTS  PER  VOLUME. 


In  the  preparation  of  this  edition  of  the  English  Classics  it  has  been 
the  aim  to  adapt  them  for  school  and  home  reading,  in  essentially  the 
same  way  as  Greek  and  Latin  Classics  are  edited  for  educational  purposes. 
The  chief  requisites  of  such  a  work  are  a  pure  text  (expurgated,  if  neces- 
sary), and  the  notes  needed  for  its  thorough  explanation  and  illustration. 

Each  of  Shakespeare's  plays  is  complete  in  one  volume,  and  is  pre- 
ceded by  an  Introduction  containing  the  "History  of  the  Play,"  the 
"  Sources  of  the  Plot,"  and  "  Critical  Comments  on  the  Play." 


From  HORACE  HOWARD  FURNESS,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Editor  of  the  "New 
Variorum  Shakespeare" 

In  my  opinion  Mr.  Rolfe's  series  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  is  thoroughly 
admirable.  No  one  can  examine  these  volumes  and  fail  to  be  impressed 
with  the  conscientious  accuracy  and  scholarly  completeness  with  which 
they  are  edited.  The  educational  purposes  for  which  the  notes  are  writ- 
ten Mr.  Rolfe  never  loses  sight  of,  but  like  "a  well-experienced  archer 
hits  the  mark  his  eye  doth  level  at." 


Rolfe's  Shakespeare. 


From  F.  J.  FURNIVALL,  Director  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,  London. 

The  merit  I  see  in  Mr.  Rolfe's  school  editions  of  Shakspere's  Plays 
over  those  most  widely  used  in  England  is  that  Mr.  Rolfe  edits  the  plays 
as  works  of  a  poet,  and  not  only  as  productions  in  Tudor  English.  Some 
editors  think  that  all  they  have  to  do  with  a  play  is  to  state  its  source 
and  explain  its  hard  words  and  allusions ;  they  treat  it  as  they  would  a 
charter  or  a  catalogue  of  household  furniture,  and  then  rest  satisfied. 
But  Mr.  Rolfe,  while  clearing  up  all  verbal  difficulties  as  carefully  as  any 
Dryasdust,  always  adds  the  choicest  extracts  he  can  find,  on  the  spirit 
and  special  "  note  "  of  each  play,  and  on  the  leading  characteristics  of  its 
chief  personages.  He  does  not  leave  the  student  without  help  in  getting 
at  Shakspere's  chief  attributes,  his  characterization  and  poetic  power. 
And  every  practical  teacher  knows  that  while  every  boy  can  look  out 
hard  words  in  a  lexicon  for  himself,  not  one  in  a  score  can,  unhelped, 
catch  points  of  and  realize  character,  and  feel  and  express  the  distinctive 
individuality  of  each  play  as  a  poetic  creation. 

From   Prof.  EDWARD  DOWDEN,  LL.D.,  of  the  University  of  Dublin, 

Author  of  "  Shakspere :   His  Mind  and  Art." 

I  incline  to  think  that  no  edition  is  likely  to  be  so  useful  for  school  and 
home  reading  as  yours.  Your  notes  contain  so  much  accurate  instruc- 
tion, with  so  little  that  is  superfluous ;  you  do  not  neglect  the  aesthetic 
study  of  the  play  ;  and  in  externals,  paper,  type,  binding,  etc.,  you  make 
a  book  "  pleasant  to  the  eyes  "  (as  well  as  "  to  be  desired  to  make  one 
wise  ") — no  small  matter,  I  think,  with  young  readers  and  with  old. 

From  EDWIN  A.  ABBOTT,  M.A.,  Author  of  "  Shakespearian  Grammar" 
I  have  not  seen  any  edition  that  compresses  so  much  necessary  infor- 
mation into  so  small  a  space,  nor  any  that  so  completely  avoids  the  com- 
mon faults  of  commentaries  on  Shakespeare — needless  repetition,  super- 
fluous explanation,  and  unscholar-like  ignoring  of  difficulties. 

From  HIRAM  CORSON,  M.A.,  Professor  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  English 

Literature,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y.    ' 

In  the  way  of  annotated  editions  of  separate  plays  of  Shakespeare,  for 
educational  purposes,  I  know  of  none  quite  up  to  Rolfe's. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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